My Once and Constant Savior
by LASOS
Summary: AU that spans the OT. Han and Leia with Luke, Mace Windu, Bail Organa, Yoda, others. HSLO. Updated 04 July.
1. Part I

_He did not see that he was covered in blood until he fell against the stark white wall of the med bay and sank to the floor, moving his hands to cover his face. He wanted to block it all out--the harsh lights, the silence of the hallways, the look of tremendous pain on her face that was burned into his mind and refused to leave him. So he brought his hands to his eyes and then he saw it. The blood. Covering his hands, covering his arms and his clothes. It was not fresh blood. It had browned and dried and clung uncomfortably to his skin and made him sick because the color reminded him not of life but of death, excruciating death. _

_Han Solo rubbed his palms together in a furious attempt to remove the blood, her blood, from his hands. It cracked and fell to the floor in tiny flakes and he fought hard against the lump rising in his throat as the color of his own skin began to show. Finally, he gave up and buried his face into his hands, desperately willing himself to wake up from this horrible, horrible dream._

_But he couldn't. This was real._

_He had lost her._


	2. Remember Two Things

Chapter One: **Remember Two Things**

"_If the world is crumbling down; I don't want to be alone; No, locked up in this place..."_

O.A.R., "Heard the World"

--

"Remember two things," Bail Organa smiled, placing a hand on his daughter's cheek as they stood together outside of the _Tantive IV. _"You are a strong woman, Leia, so never let anyone make you feel otherwise."

Leia offered her father a smile in return. "Was that one or two, Father?"

"One," he replied. "The other, my little girl, is to remember that I will always be with you."

They would be the last words that Leia would ever hear from her father. As if by some force, some premonition, Bail had chosen his advice to his daughter wisely, perhaps to offer her comfort if anything were to happen while she was away on her "diplomatic" mission to retrieve the plans to the Empire's newest battle station.

But of course, something did happen. And as the last fragments of Alderaan and her family floated off into the abyss of space she did not think about her father's last words. She refused to allow Bail's face to enter her mind because doing so would only be the crack she needed in her armor and she would not let herself cry while surrounded by Imperial presence. So instead she returned to her holding cell and stretched out on the cold slab and closed her eyes and only willed the hour of her execution to come quickly.

It was not until later, much later, that she began to rue the interruption of her scheduled death by a blue-eyed farm boy, a not-so-heartless mercenary, and a walking carpet. It was after the Battle of Yavin, after the awards ceremony, when she was finally given a moment alone in her quarters on the remote moon that her father's words found their way into her thoughts. The words entered her mind and wrapped themselves around her memories and suddenly she found herself doubled over in the 'fresher, vomiting violently, as if her body was trying to rid itself of the overwhelming guilt and despair that now consumed her.

She thought maybe her eyes had gone dry, that she would forever be unable to shed a tear for any reason. But she was wrong. As she leaned her head back against the cool wall of the 'fresher, she noticed that she had been fortunate enough not to get sick on her ceremonial gown. And then she realized that the gown was one of her few remaining possessions from her home planet.

And then she felt one hot, stinging tear fall from her eye and down her cheek, dropping finally to the floor beneath her.

Quickly, Leia brought a hand to her face and wiped the track of the tear away. She felt that she did not deserve to mourn yet, that she would ever deserve to mourn. She had failed them all.

"You are a strong woman, Leia, so never let anyone make you feel otherwise."

What had she done? She had already failed her father as Tarkin gave the order to fire, but she was failing him all over again by sitting there on the 'fresher floor and allowing the guilt to plague her.

For a moment, she wished that Luke had never opened the door to her cell.

As she sat there, eyes shut tightly in a losing battle against her emotions, Leia was vaguely aware of voices floating from the commlink in her bedroom. She caught snippets, but mostly she tried to block out those sounds as well. She hoped that maybe, if she stayed there long enough, the Alliance would forget about her and she could just fade away into the jungle of the moon.

The Rebels, of course, would never forget about her, and she was finally startled from her cocoon by an insistent banging at the door of her chamber. Before she could think to move towards the offending noise, she heard the door slide open and hurried footsteps making their way towards her.

"Princess?" A voice called, and she felt her eyes widen in surprise. She knew that voice, but had only just learned it. It was a voice that for some reason, against her best judgement and depths of emotional pain, caused the tiniest of flutters in her stomach that had nothing to do with grief or anger. She couldn't explain it, but somehow that voice filled her with hope.

The owner of the voice found her shortly, right where she had been on the 'fresher floor. The space pirate. The heartless mercenary. The gruff and scruffy smuggler. Han Solo. She had seen so many expressions cross his handsome face in the mere hours that they had been acquainted, but the one on his face now was new. Concern. Worry. Care. The emotion that she found in his eyes surprised her a little, even scared her. He had proven to her quickly that he was not the hot-headed nerfherder she had originally judged him to be in the din of blaster fire. He crouched down low next to her and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Your Worship, are you all right?"

Leia swallowed hard and nodded in reply, her eyes offering unconvincing corroboration.

"Well, look," Han began, obviously not buying her act, "Command's been trying to comm you for the last hour. They've tracked Star Destroyers entering the system and we have to evacuate real quick-like. Luke and the Squadrons have already left, and so have most of the transports. They're holding one for you, but only for about two more minutes."

"And why are you here?" She asked, sounding a little more cold than she intended. If he was hurt by her question, however, he didn't show it.

"Well, since you left the celebration early, I wanted to see if you wanted to share a bottle of Whyren's Reserve with me," he said, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

Leia tried to come up with a retort, but found her mind too exhausted to form any coherent thought. So instead she shook her head and cast her gaze back to the white of the 'fresher floor.

"Ah, come on, you don't think I'm gonna let you stay here now do you?" His voice was a little softer, now.

"It's not your concern, Captain Solo."

That remark, however, seemed to hit a nerve. Any softness the captain had displayed melted immediately. She felt his grip on her shoulder tighten slightly and was sure she saw a signature finger wagging from the corner of her eye.

"Now look here, Princess, I just risked a hell of a lot for your little Alliance and I'll be damned if I saved you from the Death Star only to let you commit suicide by staying here. I'm getting you out of here whether you like it or not."

She could not say a word. Mostly, she was stunned at how easily the Captain had read her reluctance to move as a death wish. But she had no time to ponder that thought because Han was swiftly and suddenly scooping her off the floor and throwing her over his shoulder. He was sprinting out of her quarters before she realized that he had hoisted her like some sort of dead animal and she was hanging upside-down, rather ungracefully, and being forced off the base. Finally, thoughts returned to her mind and she managed to wiggle in his firm grip.

"Han!" Leia screamed, punching his back, "Put me down right now!"

"No," came his equally firm reply. "This way, I know where you are all the time."

They were rounding the corner to the hangar bay and she felt Han's pace quicken at the sound of a roaring engine. Leia stopped squirming, realizing that the sound she heard was the last transport off base.

"Shav!" Han shouted as they reached the hangar in time to see the Mon Calamari cruiser take off. Only then did he dare set the Princess on her feet. She was wide-eyed, almost horrified at the fact that her colleagues had stranded her on the base.

"But-but-" she sputtered, incredulously, but again Han was acting quickly. He grabbed her hand and began to sprint again to the _Millennium Falcon _in the far corner of the bay, her engines already started. She followed him blindly up the ramp of the ship, not noticing that he refused to let go of her arm until the door was securely shut. Still, she followed him, numbly, taking a seat behind him in the cockpit where Chewie was waiting impatiently.

"Come on, Chewie, let's get the hell outta here!" Han bellowed as he slid into the pilot's seat.

Leia wondered for a short moment if the bucket of bolts would work well enough to get them off the moon, but her thoughts were answered as she watched the jungle of Yavin IV speed past them and the ship was quickly enveloped in a blanket of stars. She heard Chewbacca growl sharply and point at a blinking light on the control panel.

"Yeah, I see 'em," Han replied as he continued to press buttons so quickly that Leia mused that he might just be showing off. "But they're not going to get close to us." And with that, he pushed the lever and the light of the stars began to streak across the sky and suddenly they were safe from any approaching Star Destroyer as they entered lightspeed. Leia exhaled a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, and Han turned around to greet her, smugly. The expression on his face changed instantly, however, when he got a good look at the princess sitting in front of him.

"You're bleeding!"

She took this news as a surprise and looked down to see that she was, in fact, bleeding at her abdomen. Immediately, she remembered the hells she had endured a few short hours ago on the now-extinct Death Star. Darth Vader and his Stormtroopers had sent hot knives into her body every time she refused to tell him the location of the Rebel base. This had only come after the needles and the mind probe, and had been particularly humiliating because they had stripped her down to do it. The Sith lord had been somewhat considerate enough to toss a few bacta patches her way after he'd decided that this torture would again get him nothing but a dead princess. The patches had helped, but when Leia removed them later as she was getting ready for the medal ceremony, she found that the five wounds on her side were still bleeding.

What upset her more than pain she suddenly felt, however, was the fact that the blood had seeped through her ceremonial gown. One of her last remaining possessions from Alderaan was ruined.

As Leia sat in what Han perceived to be stunned silence at the fact that she was suddenly wounded, Chewie had left and returned with a medical kit and a canteen of water for the princess, and then left again to let Han tend to her injuries.

"Hey, Princess?" He asked quietly, bringing her back from her daze. She looked up at him, as if surprised to see him still sitting there. "Listen, Leia, Chewie's gone to get you some spare clothes for you to change into, but I need to see what's making you bleed."

"It's nothing," she said, not wanting to admit to him what she had gone through. He put a tentative hand on her shoulder, his eyes searching hers, wondering if it was he that had caused this. "Just a recent cut that reopened," she added, reassuring him.

"Look, Your Worship, I'm no expert, but that looks like a lot of blood for just one cut. Let me take a look." He smiled. "I promise I won't look anywhere but the injury."

Leia raised an eyebrow and Han handed her the canteen of water, motioning for her to take a sip.

"Besides, Princess, I've been in a lot of fights in my day. Chewie and me got some great stuff for bleeding. Better'n bacta. Came from Tatooine."

Reluctantly, she agreed. After taking another drink of water, she set the canteen down and pushed the shoulders of her dress down her arms, slipping the gown down to her waist. Han let out an audible gasp, not because he was excited to see so much of her exposed skin but because of the gruesome sight of the right side of her abdomen. She had five inch-long cuts between her ribcage and her hip bone, raised and inflamed and trickling blood down her body. He saw evidence of bacta treatment, but apparently the patches had dissolved away and allowed the wounds to reopen.

"Gods, what happened to you?" Han sounded scarily angry, as if he wanted to strangle the person that did this to her.

Leia focused intently on the green gel that he was spreading over her cuts, surprised that the concoction instantly numbed the pain she felt, but would not look at him.

"Just another Imperial interrogation technique," she mumbled.

His hand flinched at the thought, but he didn't say anything at first as he took a white bandage from the kit and placed it over the treated cuts. Then he reached for a white shirt, similar to the one he wore, and a pair of gray thermals that Chewie had left in the cockpit and handed them to her.

"If you'll bring me your dress when you get changed, I think we might be able to get the blood out."

She nodded and Han quickly left her alone to don her new clothing. The v-neck of the shirt came low enough to graze the top of her bra, but it had claps that she was able to button and preserve some of her remaining modesty. Both articles were much larger than she, but she was able to roll the waist of the thermals over to make them stay on her hips as she walked. Han and Chewie were in the galley, and Leia could hear him mumbling to his friend about her torture. They quieted when she entered and Chewie immediately took the gown from her and began to clean it. Han motioned for her to sit at the holotable and handed her a glass of blue milk.

"Drink," he said, sitting next to her. "How are you feeling?"

_Terrible, _she thought. _Alone, guilty, so desperately, desperately sad._

"Better now, thanks," she said.

"Was Alderaan another Imperial interrogation technique?" Han asked, finally, quietly. Leia felt the sudden rush of tears to her eyes at the name of her home. It just couldn't be gone.

She managed to say yes, but then shut her eyes tightly, refusing to let this strange man that had already saved her life twice and infuriated her at least three times more than that to see her cry, see her at her most vulnerable. But Han Solo, who just continued to surprise her, did not want her to cry, to feel the sadness that he knew must have swallowed her whole. The princess before him was a paradox personified, so beautiful and yet so marred by pain, so strong yet so incredibly fragile. He took her hand in his, the one that was not clutching the glass of blue milk, and began to stroke her palm with his thumb. He wanted desperately to make her feel better.

"Tell me about your family," he said suddenly, surprising her yet again.

"What?"

"Tell me about your family," he repeated, shrugging. "It helps with the losses."

"You've lost your family?" Leia was genuinely concerned over his half-revelation, but even more so she did not want to talk about her family. She felt that she didn't deserve to have the memories.

"Yes, but we're not talking about me. You're the princess of Alderaan, so that makes your father Bail Organa, right?" She nodded. "Tell me about him."

"He was my best friend," Leia said without realizing that she'd done so. Han gave her a crooked grin, urging her to continue. And she did, suddenly comfortable in his presence. "He was so caring. I was adopted, but he and my mother never seemed to think that mattered, that I was their little girl despite how I came to be in their family. He was one of the founders of the Alliance, and he started bringing me with him on missions and meetings after my mother died."

"How old were you?"

"Young, six. She was very sick for as long as I can remember. Father gave me this little stuffed baby nerf doll right after she died and said it was from Mother." Leia smiled sheepishly, but it genuine and made Han's heart leap a little at her small joy. "I slept with it every night, but it was on my ship when we were captured by Vader, so I guess it's gone now."

Another loss. It wasn't even a person, but her little, worn nerf doll named Sellen had been a comfort to her for so long. The loss of the toy saddened her almost as much as the loss of her father.

"Anyway," she continued quietly, "I joined the Alliance because I wanted to be just like him. I ran for Senate when I turned eighteen and was able to use my position to run secret missions for the Rebellion under diplomatic cover. That's what I was doing...well, you know the rest of the story."

"Some of it," Han agreed. "Were you able to see him before you left?"

The last words Bail had said to her flooded her mind once again as she nodded.

"He walked me to the ship. He told me to remember two things."

"What?"

"That I was a strong woman."

Han laughed. "No argument there, Your Worship."

Leia rolled her eyes and continued. "And the other was that he'd always be with me."

They were quiet again, each pondering their on faith in this. Leia seemed to believe it wholeheartedly, even though it appeared to Han that she struggled to find solace in the thought. Han, for his part, had faith in little more than his blaster and had always placed very little stock in religions and thoughts of an afterlife, but he knew that now was not the time to enter a philosophical debate with the princess. Besides, she was still so sad, so worn. She needed to rest.

Finally, Han let go of her hand and pulled a small purple pill from a vial in the medkit still open on the table.

"Take this," he said, offering it to her. "We have another twenty hours or so before we meet the rest of the fleet."

"What is it?"

"Sleeping pill. You need your rest and you don't strike me as the kind of girl that's just gonna relax. Might as well take advantage of a few hours with nothing to do."

Leia hesitated, so he took her hand again and placed the pill into it.

"C'm on. I'll wake you up in enough time to get all pretty for your Command meeting."

Sighing, Leia put the pill to her mouth and swallowed it quickly. Han motioned for her to get up.

"Chewie made sure the extra cabin is habitable. But you better hurry, Princess, because that thing acts quick."

Leia stood up, already feeling her eyelids grow heavy. She smiled to herself as she realized how badly she had misjudged the scruffy captain walking in front of her. She didn't know if he'd stick around with the Alliance once he got her to the rendezvous point, but she recognized that she had made a very fast friend in this handsome man that she thought cared about nothing but money...

Han turned around in enough time to catch the princess before she fell to the floor, fast asleep. He lifted her gently and cradled her as he would a child, carrying her to the extra cabin. Chewie had put sheets on the soft bunk recessed into the wall and added a few extra pillows in case Leia required more creature comforts than either pilot. He placed her on the bed and pulled a thick blanket up to her chin. She moaned quietly and settled in to a more comfortable position, and Han found himself struck by how her tiny movement caused his heart to expand in his chest. He began to hope that the beautiful young princess before him would never have to hurt as she had in the past few days ever again.

"Sweet dreams, Princess," Han whispered, and the door slid shut silently behind him.


	3. The Truce

Chapter Two: **The Truce**

"_My life is different now, I swear; I know now what it means to care; About somebody other than myself; I know the things I said to you; Were untender and untrue; I'd like to see those things unsaid..."_

The Avett Brothers, "Shame"

--

When they arrived at the rendezvous on the mountainous planet of Santee, Leia said a a short thank you to her rescuer and exited the ship quickly for a meeting with several Alliance leaders that had started fifteen minutes prior to their landing. Han was slightly taken aback by her rapid retreat, but deemed that she was too polite of a person to let him leave without giving him proper thanks. Satisfied that she would be back, he decided to leave the _Falcon _alone for a bit and find Luke and some of the other Rogues.

Though he saw nothing of the princess after she fell asleep until he woke her thirty minutes before entering the system, her presence on his ship for the second time in as many days was beginning to tug at his mind. He found her beautiful. That much he could admit to himself because he was sure he was not the only man in the galaxy that had ever had such a thought. But there was something else about her, something that struck him immediately despite a barrage of blaster fighter, and he had only been half-joking when he had asked the kid about the possibility of the two of them together. And as he learned more about her, even just the few snippets she had given him, he found himself even more intrigued. He marveled that she had lost so much not long ago but was willing, almost eager to continue to serve this war that had taken everything from her.

Leia's zeal for the Alliance made Han wonder if it was something that he, too, should consider joining. Her faith in the cause was inspiring, particularly to a man that didn't believe in anything.

That thought surprised him as it entered his mind. Of course he couldn't join the Rebellion. He already had one death mark, he certainly didn't need any more. Plus, he didn't do well with people barking orders at him all the time (much like the little princess). And even if he did decide to join, there was the not-so-small matter of his record in the Imperial Navy. Could they even trust him? Certainly he had no allegiances to the Empire and he was sure he had proved as much by returning to help Luke fire on the Death Star. But he still wondered if his past would be taken lightly.

"Han!" The youthful, exuberant voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned to see tow-headed Luke bounding towards him with a smile stretched across his face. "You're here!"

"Yeah, Kid," he replied, clapping Luke on the shoulder. "Her Worshipfulness was being a slowpoke back on Yavin and I'm too nice of a guy to just leave her there."

Luke raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"Are you staying?"

Han looked at Luke and then past him as he saw Leia leaving the room she had just recently entered, talking quietly with General Carlist Rieekan. He was silent for a moment and the younger man turned to follow Leia as well. She noticed both of them watching her and offered a small smile as she and Rieekan began to walk in their direction.

"I don't know yet, Kid."

"Captain Solo!" Rieekan smiled and extended a hand that Han shook as the duo reached them. "We must thank you for returning one of our most important leaders to us not once but twice."

Han offered a crooked grin as Luke looked a little hurt that he wasn't included in one of the rescue operations and Leia looked indignant that she had been included at all.

"It wasn't easy, General. She's as stubborn as a bantha. I had to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder."

Rieekan chuckled, but Leia's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I merely found the prospect of traveling with you again, Captain, less than exciting," she retorted, cooly.

Luke smirked and Rieekan took that as his cue to leave. He saluted the two younger men and gave Leia's shoulder a squeeze and then began to walk away. As Luke and Leia moved to hug each other, Han found that his feet were moving in the direction of the General. By the time his mind finally caught up with his body, all of his faculties for reason had left him and he knew that there was no stopping what he was about to do.

"General Rieekan?"

Rieekan stopped and turned back to Han, looking as if he halfway expected this.

"Yes, Captain Solo?"

Han hesitated for a moment, then forced himself to speak.

"I want to help. For a while. I can't stay forever, but I've held Jabba the Hutt off for this long, so I don't think that a few more months will really make a difference."

"Well, Solo, we could certainly use a pilot of your caliber. You were a great help to us at Yavin."

Han nodded.

"But, sir, I think that I should tell you that I was a lieutenant in the Imperial Navy. Carida."

The general was silent as he waited for Han to continue.

"Dishonorably discharged, sir. They wanted me to skin the Wookie."

Rieekan grinned.

"Solo, dishonorably discharged from the Imperial Navy is exactly what we like to hear!"

Han returned the grin and then shifted a little, as if he was forming his next sentence very carefully.

"There's more, General. My reward credits...I'd like to give them back to the Alliance. It just doesn't feel right to take them from you."

Rieekan raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The General put a hand on Han's arm.

"You're a good man, Solo."

Across the hangar bay, Leia was quietly watching the exchange between Han and Rieekan, half-wondering and half-assuming what they were discussing. Luke was excitedly describing to her their escape from Yavin and hyperspace trip to Santee, but she could barely bring herself to find the journey interesting. Han was proving himself to be even more of an enigma, and it both excited her and drove her crazy.

Finally, Luke nudged her with his elbow.

"Hey? How was your trip? Why didn't you leave with the rest of the fleet?"

Even though she had only known Luke for a few days, she felt as though they had been friends forever. They had an instant connection that she couldn't explain, but he was so familiar to her, a strange case of imagined déjà vu. Leia knew that she could trust him.

"I wanted to die there, Luke," she admitted, quietly. "I felt like I betrayed them all and that I didn't deserve to go on living."

"Oh, Leia," Luke said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "You can't blame yourself."

"I know," she replied. "And I don't so much now. Han and I talked about it a little bit. Your friend really is a strange man," she added, nodding towards the captain that was now swaggering back in their direction.

"Well, Princess," Han greeted with an arrogant smile, "I don't know what you did, but I guess you got them to convince me to stay around a little while longer."

"I did nothing of the sort!"

Luke stepped back. Leia was getting angry quickly and Han was poking the bantha with a stick.

"Oh, please, Your Highnessness. You're telling me you didn't plan this whole 'damsel in distress' routine just so I would keep fighting your little war? Are you that desperate for me to stay?"

"You flatter yourself, Captain," Leia snapped. "Clearly, you're too dimwitted to realize that I pay no mind to your presence here."

"Ah, come on, Princess. I think I know you a little better than that by now." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "You'll save yourself a lot of sleepless nights if you just admit how much you want me around." He stepped closer to her now and leaned in to her ear, whispering huskily. "Then again, I could think of a lot of things to do during those sleepless nights."

The princess jerked away and flushed scarlet, but Han and Luke could not tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Fire flashed in her big brown eyes and Han could not help but smirk at the reaction he had elicited.

"I can assure you that you will _never_ have anything to do with my nocturnal habits. You have your credits, Captain. Why don't you just go?"

"I don't want your money!" He spat. "I gave it back."

"Then what are we? Your charity case? We have everything we need!"

"Last time I checked, Princess, you were hurtin' pretty bad for soldiers. I'd think twice before letting someone like me get away."

"I wouldn't give it a second thought!"

Their voices had escalated now to the point where most people in the hangar bay had turned to watch their verbal sparring match. Luke, for his part, could see that the pair was getting angrier by the minute. Someone's ego was about to be checked in a bad way, and he was certain that was not what needed to happen. Han had shoved a finger into Leia's face as Luke had seen him do at least once before and had the look of someone about to deliver a killing blow. That was when Luke stepped between them.

"Enough!"

Two sets of eyes flew coldly to Luke, but he refused to back down.

"That's enough."

The three were frozen for a moment, but finally Han sighed in frustration and stalked back to the _Falcon. _Leia watched him leave, her face as hard as Luke had ever seen, before finally turning back to her friend. The low buzzing hum of activity had returned to the bay as their audience returned to work. Leia shut her eyes tightly and shook her head.

"Leia, do you realize what he's done?"

"Are you taking his side?" She shot back, incredulously.

Luke frowned.

"I'm not taking any sides, Leia. But I am asking if you realize what he just did for us."

"No. What did he do?"

"He's got a price on his head and he had the money to pay it off and he didn't take it. He gave it back to help us."

She was silent for a moment longer and then rolled her eyes and sighed as her shoulders slumped, defeated.

"Shavit..."

Luke laughed at the swear word that escaped her mouth, surprised.

"Leia! I...how did you know that word?"

She smiled.

"I'm a politician, Luke."

Though Leia had, albeit somewhat reluctantly, come to her senses, Han remained angry and knew how to hold a grudge, so he made a point to stay out of her sight for the next week as they settled into the new base and he received his assignments. Chewie, much to his surprise, had not been angry about his deciding to stay without talking to the Wookie first and had growled something almost inaudible as he walked back to the _Falcon _to grab their things. Han couldn't be sure, but he thought he caught the Shriiwook words for "it's about time."

He had just left a pre-lunch meeting with Rieekan and was walking rather quickly towards the mess hall, hungry for even the Alliance's meager slop, when he collided ungracefully with the one person he had been trying to avoid. As they had both been walking fast and not paying attention, he caught Leia more than just a little off guard and she stumbled backwards. Han reached out an instinctive hand to steady her, and to his surprise, she didn't shrug it off immediately.

"Er, sorry about that, Princess," Han smiled, uneasily.

Leia bristled a bit, then her features softened. She returned the smile.

"No apologies necessary, Captain. I should have been paying attention."

"Yeah, that way you could have avoided me."

Han began to mentally punch a wall for letting himself say the wrong thing yet again. A stern look crossed her face, but there was still a small smile in her eyes.

"I don't believe I have been the one doing the avoiding, Captain."

He rolled his eyes.

"Ah, c'm on, Princess! Why do you insist on calling me 'Captain?'"

"I will for as long as you insist on calling me 'Princess.'"

"What if I started calling you something else, like 'Your Highness?'"

Leia pursed her lips.

"We'll see."

They were silent again for a moment until Han finally nodded his head and began to move past her.

"Han," she said quietly. He turned back to her, a little surprised that she said his name.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Leia."

It was all that needed to be said for now.


	4. Part II

_Han barely noticed as a young medic rushed by him hurriedly, casting a sad glance in his direction. The smell of the place was sickening, so clean, so sterile. A wave of nausea crept over his body but he couldn't be sure if the smell was making him sick or if it was the thought that he should have gotten her there sooner. The events played in his mind like a holovid stuck on repeat and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake them. She had been shot, but claimed it wasn't bad and kept on fighting for him. Why the hell did he let her follow him to the forest moon? Why didn't he do something more to protect her? He had been a fool to let her come and should have considered that she had something to tell him that she hadn't been ready to share before the battle. He knew it. On some level he had known it since he held her in his arms on the sand skiff but had been so afraid to ask._

_He opened his eyes and found the clean, bright hallway swimming in his tears that he refused to let fall. He wanted so badly to see her, to touch her, to take her pain away and feel it all himself._

"_Leia," he whispered, so softly that her name died on his lips._


	5. Before the Storm

Chapter Three: Before the Storm

"_I've seen the bad moon rising; Revealing the beauty of night; Baby, you and I both know; That maybe I should let this one go..."_

MiKE WiLLiS, "Let This One Go"

--

Leia glanced wearily at the chronometer on her wrist. 0325. They weren't scheduled to arrive at Ryquin for another five hours, but her mind was swimming and she was certain that sleep would yet again elude her if she attempted it. Sighing, she shut off her datapad, shrouding her cabin in darkness. She lay back on her bed and ran over the details of the mission. The northeastern hemisphere of the grassland planet had been ravaged by weeks of terrible storms and was in desperate need of food and medical supplies. Although Ryquin was under Imperial control, the Empire had refused to offer any aid to the struggling human population. Leia had to fight hard to get a small squadron of Alliance fighters and five medics, along with the necessary provisions, to be released from regular duty for one standard week in order to provide the help the Ryquins so desperately needed. Rieekan had been on her side, but Mothma didn't seem to think that the Alliance could spare the numbers for any period of time.

Leia finally got her to agree when she accused the older woman of having no more compassion for civil rights than the Emperor himself. She was rewarded with a stern warning from Rieekan and a chilly relationship with Mothma, but got what she wanted nonetheless.

She had hoped Luke could join them on the mission; he had an ability for empathy that was unmatched among most others within the Alliance. But the Empire had engaged them in small-scale battle in the Middle Rim and he was called out to fight before she had been able to assemble her team. Instead, she recruited Han and Chewie, as well as the _Falcon _as escorts for the medium transport she had secured for the trip. The Empire paid little attention to the goings-on at Ryquin, but Leia still thought it would be better to have a little bit of protection on their humanitarian mission, just in case.

Weary of the details, she turned on her side and attempted to focus on other things. Her cabin in the _Falcon _was suitable, but she noted that it smelled vaguely like burned circuitry and stale kaffe. And it was cold. Han kept the environment control cooler than most ships on which she had travelled because Chewbacca was more comfortable that way. All that fur provided unnecessary insulation for the enormous Wookie, but Han had mentioned that he was a little to vain to get a short haircut for comfort's sake. Instead, everyone settled on wearing an extra layer of clothing.

She glanced at her chronometer again. 0337. No, sleep would not grace her right now. Instead, Leia pulled a robe over the the thin material of her sleeping gown and padded quietly to the galley, searching for a cup of kaffe. As she passed by the cockpit, she noticed a faint blue light and paused, peeking inside. Han was sitting the pilot's seat, idly watching the speeding light of the stars passing them by. If he noticed her presence behind him, he didn't show it, and Leia wondered whether or not she should intrude. She stood there, silently, weighing the situation. She and Han had known one another for nearly a year, and despite their unspoken truce days after their meeting, they had found themselves in shouting matches more than just a few times over the last ten months. Still, she considered him a friend, even as she tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach that plagued her every time he was near. If she were honest with herself, Leia would admit that their arguments had little to do with Han crossing any lines and everything to do with her fear of getting too close to him.

Of course, she would never be honest with herself.

Finally, she pulled the robe a little more tightly around her neck and plopped unceremoniously into the seat usually occupied by Chewbacca. He was her friend. And besides, what else was she going to do at this hour?

He regarded her carefully but didn't say anything, so she decided to speak first.

"You're up late."

"So are you."

Leia couldn't argue with that, but she fell quiet anyway.

"Are you okay?" She asked, finally.

He turned his chair to face her fully for the first time since she entered.

"Yeah. Thanks. I just don't sleep much on these trips."

She shrugged.

"What's your excuse, Princess?"

"I just don't sleep much in general."

"So I hear." A pause, then, "Are you sure you want to do this? I hear it's pretty bad out there."

Leia raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I believe in helping those in need."

Han nodded and they fell silent again, too tired to make conversation but too awake to do anything else. Leia mused that it was a comfortable silence, as if they were just old friends taking in the scenery and had no reason to force idle chat. She studied the blue light of hyperspace, hypnotized by its calming motion. Her eyelids grew heavy and by the time she realized that she had dozed off, it was 0600 and Han had covered her with a light blanket. She looked around the cockpit and blushed as she saw him watching her with a small smile.

"Mornin' Princess."

She covered her eyes with her hands.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled.

He laughed.

"Don't be. I'm always of service to bore you to sleep."

Leia shook her head, clearing sleep from her mind. "I guess I'm not great company, either."

He rolled his eyes and looked around the cockpit.

"She's my girl, you know."

"What, this bucket of bolts?"

"Yep. You wanna fly her?"

The laugh that escaped her lips was one of pleased surprise and was not at all haughty.

"Are you serious? You would trust me with 'your girl?'"

"I'll be right here the whole time, Princess. I don't trust you that much, yet." That signature crooked smile crossed his face. "Go get ready for landing. There's fresh kaffe in the galley, too. Be back in an hour."

Leia, surprisingly, did as she was told. She was pleased to find that Han had a water shower instead of a sonic shower installed in the tiny 'fresher. After donning her signature white gown and a pair of tan nerf-hide boots, she plaited her hair into a loose bun. Then she wandered to the galley and fixed Han and herself mugs of kaffe, having not seen the pilot in possession of one earlier. Chewie was in the copilot's seat when she returned, so Han quickly vacated his chair for the one directly behind it, offering her the pilot's spot.

"Wow," she said, handing him the kaffe. "You sure about this?"

He nodded towards a little green light that had begun to blink on control panel.

"That signal is telling us we're going to be moving out of hyperspace in less than a minute. When we disengage, put your hand here," he took her hand and placed it on the steering controls with a touch that sent an involuntary shiver up Leia's spine, "and make sure to hold her steady."

Leia, who had never been allowed to pilot any more than a speeder, tried to do just that, but the ship lurched violently as it dropped from lightspeed. Chewie let out a frustrated growl as he corrected her mistake on his controls, but Han waved away the Wookie's protests.

"Give her a chance," he said, both to Chewie and to the _Falcon. _"She's learning."

And indeed, she picked it up quickly, guiding the ship more smoothly now in the direction of Ryquin. Han leaned in behind her, murmuring directions so close to her ear that she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

"That's it...Don't push it too hard...Just a light touch...A little to the right...There you go. Perfect."

Though she didn't realize she had done it, Leia tilted her head in the direction of Han's mouth.

She held the ship well as they entered the atmosphere, but as they drew closer to landing her control became shaky, so Han snaked his arms around hers, holding her hands and showing her just how to land the ship gently.

"The key is to allow her just the right amount of give. She'll land evenly if you don't force it."

She found his touch electrifying. He let go as soon as the ship was firmly on the ground, and she couldn't help but feel a little chilly as his hands left hers. Chewie grumbled something, and though she didn't understand Shriiwook, she recognized the reluctant praise coming from the Wookie's mouth. Leia grinned, happily.

"Thanks, Chewie."

He stood up and patted her shoulder, moving towards the exit. She stood up as well and turned to face Han, who was regarding her with what Leia swore was pride on his face.

"Well, Captain? How did I do?"

He extended a hand which she shook, firmly.

"Very well, Princess. Maybe you have a future in smuggling if this politics thing doesn't work out."

Smiling, she shook her head and walked towards the hallway.

"I don't lie very well."

Han got the distinct feeling that that wasn't true.


	6. The Destruction of Ryquin

Chapter Four: The Destruction of Ryquin

"_And I would have stayed up with you all night; Had I known how to save a life..."_

The Fray, "How to Save a Life"

--

The small band of Rebels were only afforded one standard day on Ryquin, so they set about immediately unloading supplies. The five medics erected a makeshift clinic for people in desperate need of medical treatment, but they brought with them enough vaccines to be distributed all across the northeastern hemisphere at their departure. They had also brought with them copious amounts of ration bars and clean water, but the most grim provision was dry firewood for funeral pyres. Tuck Ello, one of the young Corellian medics, had noted before they left that the bodies of those that perished in the storms would be harboring diseases and could contaminate freshwater sources, so they would need to be burned. What of Ryquin had not been leveled, however, had been flooded, and they were left with no way to dispose of their dead.

Han was thankful he had not been put to the gruesome task of erecting the funeral pyre and locating bodies. Instead, he helped distribute rations. Leia had given him a datapad with the information of all humanitarian aides that would be meeting them upon landing with speeders ready to be loaded with supplies. It was his job to ensure that everyone received their carefully allocated rations. She had warned him that he might encounter a food riot, but the Ryquins so far proved to be more concerned about their welfare as a whole, which Han found admirable.

Leia, for her part, served her role as a diplomat well. She went out into the most damaged areas with Chewie as her escort, meeting with the Ryquins and learning more about their plight. She was outraged to discover that the Empire had not equipped the planet, known for its terrible storms, with any sort of weather tracking system that could have sent an early warning and saved hundreds of thousands of lives. The Ryquins were agrarian settlers and most of their crops, a year's supply of food, had been destroyed. Leia assured them that she would negotiate a return with additional food supplies until the crops returned the following year. She also made a mental note to request several weather tracking systems from Mon Calamari. As the Alliance's biggest supporters and champions for civil rights, she was certain she could appeal to Admiral Ackbar's constituents and secure the desperately needed equipment.

The destruction was mind-boggling. Ryquin was by no means as industrialized as many of the other planets she had visited, but it still had been organized into carefully planned townships that were now unrecognizable except for piles of mangled and twisted durasteel. The floodwaters had receded in the past week, leaving behind dirt and mud and flattened grass that extended for miles. But it was the loss of life that struck Leia most. Hundreds of thousands of ill-prepared Ryquins had been ripped from their homes by rushing flood waters that pulled them into the deep rivers and tributaries, rivers now choked with the corpses of the dead. The smell was sickening, but the grief on the survivors' faces was even more so.

The princess made her way down to the shoreline, walking along the winding rill that now appeared so tranquil. It was bitterly ironic. The main river, Rhas, flooded every year, a controlled flood that deposited silt on the farmlands and made the soil fertile. But the recent floods were not life-giving as they had once been. As she surveyed the banks of the river, Leia heard the sobs of a Ryquin woman that had collapsed at the water's edge. She approached the grief-stricken woman cautiously, observing that the raven-haired Ryquin was not much older than herself. Leia sat down beside her, and only then did she notice that the woman was clutching the body of a lifeless infant. She put a careful hand on the woman's arm, and the Ryquin responded by burying her head into Leia's shoulder, desperate for comfort. Leia hugged the stranger tightly, her own heart breaking at the woman's devastation.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

As the Ryquin woman wept, and old man watched intently, hidden by a bush on the opposite bank. He wore a dark brown tunic and was clearly not a Ryquin himself. Instead of the distinctive black hair and snow white skin the Ryquins shared, this man's skin was a light brown, and he had no hair at all. He was a visitor, a medic himself that traveled to planets in need, offering what services he could.

But he was something more.

He had been startled by the strong Force-presence that had appeared suddenly on the small planet and followed it until he found the beautiful young woman with long brown hair and an immensely kind spirit. Her mark was unmistakable. It was so similar to the mark he'd felt more than twenty years earlier when the young slave boy first crossed his path that there was no denying who she truly was. He could only wonder if her enemies were aware as well.

As similar as her presence was to that dark shadow, there was something different about her, and the old Jedi named Mace Windu knew, just knew, that she was capable of bringing about the good that the universe so desperately needed. He closed his eyes and stretched out in the Force, brushing her mind with his own. He saw her torture at the hands of Lord Vader and the overwhelming sadness that still plagued her over the loss of Alderaan. He saw her friendship with another unmistakable Force-presence and a tender spot for a seasoned fighter. He saw her future: joy, then pain.

Windu's eyes flew open to Leia and the young Ryquin woman that was holding her dead child. He knew the future was always in motion, but he had a sinking feeling that he was watching foreshadowing of the cruelest sort. He rose to his feet as the three suns over Ryquin were beginning to set, in search of the ship on which Leia had come. The Force had spoken to him. She needed to be protected, and it was up to him to help.

Leia did not notice Windu's departure, but she did notice the setting suns and realized that she needed to get back to base. The Ryquin woman, whose name, she learned, was Pax Owren, had requested to go with them, to join the Alliance herself, because there was nothing left for her on the planet. Leia agreed and Chewbacca escorted them back to base. Leia gave Owren a moment alone at the funeral pyre with her child and found Tuck Ello, who was in charge of the crew on the transport. She explained the situation, then bid him safe travels and made her way wearily back to the _Falcon. _Ello watched her closely. Leia's face was pallid and she looked so drained of any energy she had left in her tiny form. It wasn't a good sign. The medic motioned for Han to come talk with him.

"Here," said Ello, handing Han a capped syringe and a vial of medicine. "She's not well. I'm worried about the contagions on this planet. She refused the required antimicrobial vaccine--"

The other Corellian raised his eyebrows, shocked.

"She refused the vaccine? Why?"

Ello shrugged. "She wouldn't say. I told her it wasn't wise but she didn't seem to care. Listen, Solo, if she develops a fever, give her 15 ccs of that and let me know. Immediately."

Han nodded worriedly as he pocketed the medicine, then hurried after Leia. He found the princess in the seat behind his own in the cockpit, her knees pulled to her chest and her head buried in her arms. The captain hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should give her some time alone. But then Chewie came up behind him, grumbling softly and telling him that they needed to go. Han placed a gentle hand on Leia's back. She did not move.

"Hey, Leia?"

No response.

"Chewie, do you think you can manage takeoff yourself?"

The Wookie growled and nodded. Carefully, Han lifted a sleeping princess from her seat and took her back to her cabin, placing her on her bunk. He removed her boots and then pulled the covers around her body. She looked more fragile than he'd ever seen her, and though she was sleeping, her face was twisted in a look of anguish. Han remembered what Ello had ordered and ran quickly to the galley to find the medkit and vitals sensor.

"Kriff," he muttered. The vitals sensor was broken and had been for some time. He dropped it on the floor and went to the cool storage unit for a canteen of water and a cold pack. Leia began to moan, loudly, and Han quickly gathered everything and sprinted back to her cabin. He studied her for a moment, then bent down and placed his lips firmly against her forehead. For a brief moment, Han mused that he would have at least one black eye at this point had the princess been conscious, but she wasn't and this was the most effective way for him to gauge her body temperature without a sensor.

Han jerked back. Leia's forehead was burning up and she was beginning to talk in her fevered delirium. He pulled the syringe Ello had given him from his jacket pocket and began measuring out the medicine.

Leia's sat straight up, her eyes wide with fear. She was breathing heavily, but staring at nothing.

"Stop it!" She cried. "Don't let it happen!"

"Leia!" He was at her side in an instant, a gentle hand cradling her head. She looked at him with alarm, as if she didn't recognize him.

"Make it stop. Make it stop, please!"

"Shh, Leia, shh. There's nothing wrong, nothing happening. Listen, I'm going to give you a shot in your arm, okay? It'll make you feel better."

Her eyes flew to the syringe in his and and she pulled away from him, pushing herself as far away from him into the corner of the bunk as she could. She shook her head and began to tremble.

"No! No, no please. Not again. Don't do it again!"

She tried to get out of the bed but Han caught her in his arms. He began to stroke her hair, looking her squarely in the eyes with the most comforting gaze he could muster.

"Hey, hey, Leia, shh. Shh, Sweetheart. It's okay. It's Han. You remember me, right? I'm not gonna hurt you, Sweetheart. I promise. You know that, right?"

Leia's eyes softened as she began to recognize the man in front of her, but she was still shaking violently. Slowly, she nodded, then her features fell as she suddenly began to cry. He pulled her into a tight embrace and she clutched at his shirt, burying herself into his chest. Her body heaved with shuddering sobs.

"I--I can't take anymore, Han. No more."

"Shh." With one free hand, Han continued to stroke her back, reassuringly. With the other, he pulled the thin material of her dress down her shoulder and quickly injected her with the medicine. It was over in an instant, and if Leia noticed the prick in her arm, she did not show it. "Shh," he continued. "It's okay, Leia. Relax."

Her sobs became quiet whimpers and finally Han lay a sleeping princess back onto the bunk.

"Gods, Princess," he whispered, stroking a stray hair from her face. "What the hell did they to do you?"


	7. I Hate the Med Ward

Chapter Five: I Hate the Med Ward

"_Tomorrow is too soon for you, my dear; I push you so far away; When all I do is want you near..."_

O.A.R., "Short a Try"

--

"I can't believe you brought me flowers," Leia laughed, weakly, as Luke handed her a pale pink bouquet of Santee lilies. He shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile.

"I don't think you get enough flowers."

She nodded.

"Well that's true."

Luke sat down in the chair next to her bed and took her hand, the one not connected to all the tubes, in his.

"How are you feeling?"

Leia sighed and considered the question for a moment. The truth was she never even really felt sick. She remembered feeling unwell on Ryquin but attributed to both lack of sleep and the gruesome scenery. The next thing she realized, she was waking up to the harsh light of the med center and being told by Two-Onebee that she had been in an out of consciousness for the last twelve days. Mostly, she was drained, exhausted, as if the sleeping she'd done had only tired her further.

"Fine," she said, quietly. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," he replied. "Actually, we just got back from the Middle Rim and I came as soon as I heard."

"Oh, right. How did that go?"

"We won, I think."

She raised an eyebrow.

"No, we won. I know that. But I'm pretty sure we're going to have to move off-world before too much longer. I did some scouting with a Wedge and Wes. I think that we may have found a good place to set up base. It's an ice planet in the Outer Rim with no indigenous human life."

"Hoth?"

Luke nodded and Leia waved away the conversation with her other hand.

"I don't want to talk about the war right now. Tell me, Luke, how are you doing?"

Luke frowned a little at her question. He didn't want to admit it, mainly because he was sure it was an emotion a budding Jedi wasn't supposed to acknowledge, but he was jealous. He had jumped at the opportunity to help Leia when she asked him to join the aid mission and was more than slightly disappointed when the Rogues were called out to fight and prevented him from going. The two of them had become close, conversing most often after Leia and Han argued, but Luke felt that their friendship was still just that. He had hoped that the aid mission would afford them an opportunity to advance their relationship further, but he was never given the chance. No, instead he was called out on duty and Han was there, yet again, as the princess' bold and fearless rescuer. It had been the second time in less than a year, third if he counted the older man's running blindly, blaster blazing, after a group of Stormtroopers on the Death Star. Luke wanted so badly to be Leia's savior, but it was Han who had refused to leave her feverish side on the three-day voyage back to Santee. Luke was beginning to wonder if the Force had other plans for him and the princess that he found so beautiful and yet so familiar.

"I'm okay," he said finally. "A little sad. Ben."

"Oh." She looked away. The first anniversary of Obi-Wan Kenobi's death was fast approaching, and Luke was still struggling to understand the loss of his mentor. Of course, the anniversary of Kenobi's death was also the same as the destruction of Alderaan, a memory that, for a moment, Leia had blissfully forgotten. Luke immediately realized what he had said as the kind smile on her face was replaced by the stoic armor that she wore so often. He mentally cursed himself for being so stupid.

"Oh, Leia, I'm sorry!"

"Ah, what'd you do now, Kid?" Han laughed as he entered the room. Leia suddenly found herself grateful for the distraction. He looked towards her and smiled, helping himself to a seat on the edge of her bed instead of opting for a chair as Luke had done.

"Well, Your Worship! Nice of you to join us."

Luke stood up and kissed her cheek.

"I've got a debriefing in ten minutes. I'll be back later."

She smiled.

"Bye, Luke."

"See ya, Junior," Han added as he turned to Leia. "How are you feeling, Princess?"

"Okay. Fine. I'm feeling fine, thank you."

"You had us scared there for a little while. Your fever was high the entire trip back in spite of the medicine and the medics here threatened to put you in a cooling tank if it didn't come down by today."

"I don't remember taking any medicine," she said, idly.

"You didn't want it," he shrugged.

Her eyes widened and flew to him. She remembered something, and from the accusatory tone in her voice, Han knew she hadn't remembered something happy.

"You injected me!"

"I had to!" He protested, arms up defensively. "Tuck Ello gave it to me. You would have died without it."

Leia stiffened visibly for a moment and then relaxed as she regarded the statement.

"I'm sorry, Han. I just...I just don't like needles."

He rewarded her with a crooked grin.

"How about that? Her Highnessness is apologizing? What have they got you on?"

"Whatever it is, I should slip some in your kaffe."

They were quiet for a moment as Leia played with the edge of her blanket at Han watched her carefully. The color had returned to her face in the past few days and she looked much healthier than even before they departed for Ryquin. He had stayed by her side through the entire journey back to Santee and had visited her in the med ward as often as Two-Onebee had allowed. Though she had awoken several times to find him there, her sentences had been nearly incoherent and he doubted she remembered any of their interaction during her fever.

Still, something she had said bothered him.

"_I wanted them to kill me," she mumbled. Her eyes were shut tightly and her forehead was glistening with sweat, but she was facing him and had taken his hand before she said it, as if she wanted to make sure he heard. "I didn't want to live anymore."_

From what Han could gather, the princess was haunted by whatever tortures she had endured while imprisoned on the Death Star. He'd seen some physical evidence as they fled Yavin, but he was sure that five cuts, no matter how painful they had been, could not have alone caused the psychological distress she had revealed in her fever. It gave him serious pause. Leia, from what he could tell, was so devoted to the Alliance. She believed wholeheartedly in its values and had suffered so much just to ensure its protection. He was positive that the horrors to which she had been subjected would have been enough to drive a lesser person to immobility, depression, maybe suicide. But then, she was so strong, so resolute. Han respected few people. He respected Chewie and Rieekan and Luke and several of the other soldiers whom he had befriended. But, while she was in her sickbed, he realized that he respected Leia more than all of them combined.

"Leia? What happened to you on the Death Star?"

She froze, horrified that he would even ask such a question.

"What?"

"It's just that you talked about it a lot while you were sick."

Her eyes narrowed and a stony expression settled on her face. He recognized what was coming next. Leia had a knack for pushing him away if he tried to get too close. Clearly, Han realized, he had said the wrong thing.

"Why are you here, Han?"

His brow furrowed, confused.

"I heard you were awake. I wanted to come see how you were feeling."

She shook her head.

"No, why are you here? Still? Why did you stay with us?"

"What, with the Alliance?"

"Yes."

He shrugged.

"I thought you could use a friend."

"I have plenty of friends, Captain."

Han crossed his arms and stood up, facing her squarely.

"Who? High Command? They aren't your friends, Princess. All they care about is whether or not you're fit to lead."

"I have an important job to do!"

"What, leading this crazy war?"

"You don't even believe in this war!"

"No, I don't!"

They were shouting now, and Leia sat up quickly. It proved to be a mistake as pain shot through her head and she was forced to lay back against the pillows. The anger, however, did not leave her eyes.

"Do you believe in anything, Han?" She asked quietly, coldly.

"Why the hell does that matter?" He answered, his tone matching hers.

Their staring match punctuated by the sound of a throat clearing as General Rieekan walked into the room.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting anything?"

"No, General." Han said, his eyes still locked with Leia's. "I was just leaving."

The captain turned quickly on his heel and left, furious that he didn't have enough credits to pay Jabba. He would have made the jump to Tatooine that night, taking himself away from the princess and her stupid rebellion forever if only he had the money. Han offered a half-salute to Rieekan as he stormed out the door and the older man took a seat in the chair Luke had recently vacated. Leia watched as Han stalked out of the room, then turned a weary gaze to Rieekan.

"What was that all about?" The general asked.

Leia closed her eyes and shook her head, frustrated with herself for doing nothing but push Han further and further away. She sighed.

"I just don't know."


	8. Of Corellian Honey and Baby Nerfs

Chapter Six: Of Corellian Honey and Baby Nerfs

"_But patiently; You slipped away from me; Oh God, I want you back; Oh God, I miss you..."_

O.A.R., "Patiently"

--

"That's ridiculous!" Luke bellowed loudly, his words more than a little slurred after his fifth stein of Corellian Ale.

"You heard me," Wes Janson replied, equally drunk. "I was able to kill three of them with one blaster shot."

"I don't believe it," Luke said.

"Believe it, Luke," Hobbie Klivian replied, grinning madly. "I saw it with my own eyes." He lifted a stein in a toast to Janson's ability with a blaster and the other Rouges followed suit. Han smiled at Luke. The Rogues had been afforded one night off every month for the past year, and though Luke had taken to drinking and playing friendly games of sabaac with the rest of them, he still hadn't quite learned how to hold his alcohol. The kid was starting to get that glazed look in his eyes which told Han it wouldn't be much longer before he'd be helping him back to his quarters.

Han had hoped that Luke wouldn't drink too much on this particular day, but it appeared that his wish was futile. It had been a bad day for him--the anniversary of Ben Kenobi's death. Han couldn't quite understand why his friend had been so upset about the loss of the crazy old fool. He thought that the two had only met just prior to their walking into that cantina in Mos Eisley. Nevertheless, Luke had been moping around base all day, gloomily, until Han finally decided he'd had enough of sitting around with nothing to do. The Rogue sabaac game that Han quickly organized was earlier than it was usually held, but he knew it would be good for Luke to have a little fun and maybe an early night.

Besides, he had something else he needed to do that evening.

At last, Luke threw all his sabaac chips down on a losing hand.

"So much for Jedi mind tricks," Wedge Antilles laughed as Han donated the rest of his chips to Janson, who was low at the time. They didn't play with credits--mostly because none of them had any credits to their names. But the chips still made the game fun and losses much less painful. And even though gambling wasn't technically illegal in the Alliance, it wouldn't have been looked upon very highly if the Rogues played their game with real money.

Han walked slowly with Luke back to his quarters, reaching out a hand to steady the kid every time he stumbled over his own feet in a drunken stupor. He made a mental note to serve him a little less ale next time.

"I miss 'im, Han," Luke mumbled.

"I know."

The kid shook his head.

"No, you don't. He taught me so much, and now he's not around to teach me anymore."

"Ah, come on, Luke. I've seen you practice. You're doing a great job on your own."

Luke considered that for a moment as they continued to walk.

"Leia is sad today," Luke said, finally. "I didn't go see her because I was sad, too. But maybe you should. You know, if you're not mad at her anymore."

"I might."

They made the rest of the trip in silence, both men thinking about Leia.

"You gonna be all right now, Kid?" Han asked as they reached Luke's room.

Luke nodded.

"Good." His voice softened now. "Hey listen, Luke, I'm sorry about Kenobi."

Luke nodded again, a little more sadly this time.

"Me too. Thanks, Han. You're a good friend."

The older man clapped him on the shoulder and grinned.

"G'night, Kid."

Han waited until the door to Luke's quarters slid shut behind him and then made his way back to the _Falcon. _He had decided to keep his room on his ship instead of taking up precious space that the Alliance could use to house four or five more soldiers. And, more importantly, he valued his privacy and preferred not to have to share a room. Besides, he reasoned, none of the Alliance's beds would have fit Chewie, and he didn't want to leave his old friend alone. Han grabbed a package that he had picked up the last time he made a supply run and rummaged through the galley for some bread and Naboo black bee honey that he'd been keeping in the cool storage unit. He debated a minute over a bottle of Corellian red wine, but then decided against it and made his way towards Leia's room.

He took a deep breath when he reached her quarters, unsure if it was wise to announce his presence. They hadn't spoken since their fight in the med ward three weeks ago, though they had acknowledged each other cordially when he saw her in the mess hall the day before. He knew that his asking about her torture was what had caused their argument, and the anniversary of the destruction of Alderaan meant that she could have only been reliving the hells she endured more vividly than ever. Would she even want to see him?

Finally, Han gathered enough resolve to comm the door. No one had seen Leia all day, but she had endured too much to have to spend it alone any longer.

"Yes?" Her voice came floating through the comm unit, strained and tight as if she had been speaking for a very long time.

"It's Han. Can I come in?"

He heard a sigh, and then, "Now is not a good time."

"I'll just be a minute."

There was silence for a moment, but instead of a response, the door slid open to reveal her standing just inside. Her hair was in a loose chestnut braid down her back and she was wearing a simple white dress that stopped just short of her bare feet. She didn't look as though she had been crying, but the stoic expression on her face did little to conceal the deep pain within her beautiful brown eyes. He wanted to take her into his arms, hold her tightly and will her pain away, but instead he settled for a crooked smile as he brushed past her into her room.

The princess' quarters were small but nice. She had a small living area with a desk, a couch, and a kitchenette that led into an equally small bedroom and connected 'fresher. He imagined that she was certainly not used to living in a space so simple, but if she was uncomfortable, she didn't show it. If she didn't complain on the _Falcon, _she certainly wouldn't complain here. There was a datapad tossed casually on the kaffe table in front of the couch and he noticed, casually, that the open file was a rather long list of names.

Leia raised an eyebrow as Han plopped down on the couch in her living room, but said nothing. He extended his hand, offering her the package.

"Brought you something, Princess."

"What is it?"

"Why don't you come over here and open it?"

Leia rolled her eyes, but she perched gingerly on the edge of the couch next to him and began to unwrap the package. Han watched not her working hands but the expression on her face as she realized what was inside. There was an instant of sadness on her features that quickly mixed with joy and she gave him a surprised smile as she met his eyes.

"I can't believe you remembered this," she said, pulling a stuffed baby nerf doll from the box.

Han grinned.

"I know it's not the same as the one you lost."

She shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. Thank you. I love it."

"You gonna name it?"

She bit her lip and thought for a moment, regarding him expectantly. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that the two of them had been at each other's throats so recently and yet here he was, in her room, offering her comfort on what had been the hardest day for her yet in the past year. Leia had not slept the night before, not that she slept much anyway, and had spent most of the morning forcing her hands to stop trembling and fighting the nausea that crept up every time she thought of her father. She would not close her eyes. It had been a year today and every time she did she saw a green flash and then jagged shards of rock where her Alderaan had just been. And of all the people she expected to realize this day would be hard for her, Han was the last on the list. She had imagined that Luke would come, but as the day wore on and she didn't see him it registered in her mind that he was grieving himself for the loss of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Rieekan had come by, of course, and so had Mon Mothma, but she was more than a little surprised to see the handsome captain at her door, bearing gifts, nonetheless.

"Canadys," she said, finally.

Han raised an eyebrow.

"That's a Corellian word."

She nodded. The word meant friendship, and of the eleven languages she knew, it was the most beautiful version.

"It's a Corellian gift."

His smile was a little broader now as he handed her the loaf of bread and opened the jar of honey.

"Here. Have you eaten today?"

She shook her head.

"Look." He tore off a chunk of the bread and dipped it into the honey. "It's delicious."

Though Leia hadn't had an appetite for days, she had to admit that the sweet honey was, in fact, delicious. It reminded her of home, but strangely enough the memory was calming and not sad as so many of her memories had been.

Han stood up.

"Told you I wouldn't be long," he said, then his expression changed to one of sheer compassion. "And, Leia, I'm sorry about Alderaan."

She looked away immediately and hugged the doll into her chest. Han took that as his cue to leave and moved towards the door to let himself out. His hand was hovering over the release control when she spoke, a sad whisper.

"Han?"

He froze.

"Can you stay for a while?"

He decided then that he could stay forever.


	9. Part III

_Luke found him staring blankly at the wall, unable to move. _

"_Han?" He asked, carefully._

_The older man didn't respond. Luke had never seen him so lost, so unable to do anything but sit there. Han had always been the man to spring in to action, to refuse to sit idly by while the Force had its way with him. He didn't believe in fate; he believed in making his own destiny, in solving the problems before him to get the solution that he wanted._

_Suddenly, he wasn't that man anymore. He was at the mercy of fate._

_Luke could hardly stand it._


	10. A Walk on the Beach

Chapter Seven: A Walk on the Beach

"_We can walk together at a regular speed; Do you dare to be excited; Are you aware, somewhat delighted; At what you did not know..."_

O.A.R., "City On Down"

--

"Are you sure you can handle this?"

Even in the tropical climate of Oertzen VI, a welcome diversion from the frozen planet of Hoth, Han's breath was hot against Leia's ear as he whispered the question, huskily, as if he were a lover exciting her with sweet nothings and tiny kisses to her temple. Leia suppressed an annoyed groan though she fought even harder to ignore the tingling that his touch inspired in her. She twisted a little in his embrace to face him, the palm of his hand smooth against her bare shoulders. He was so close that his legs were entangled in the gauzy material of her long, pale blue strapless dress, the traditional garb for women on Oertzen VI, that was blowing in the steady breeze coming off the deep purple sea.

Leia plastered on her best adoring grin, how she imagined a new bride might appear when gazing up at her (admittedly handsome) new husband, certain that she looked the part of a young woman in love to any passers-by. Han, on the other hand, met her smile with a mischievous grin of his own and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, though the wide smile never left her lips. He was enjoying this entirely too much.

"You mean a marriage to you? Absolutely not."

"Ah, I'm not that bad, am I, Sweetheart?"

Leia glanced at the formidable Oertzen man walking their way. Though his features were the same as a human's, he was nearly as tall as Chewbacca, and his dark blue skin and white hair identified him immediately as a native of the small tropical moon that orbited the Middle Rim planet of the same name. He was also dressed in the gauzy pale blue suit expected of Oertzen men, a suit identical to the one Han was wearing. She straightened, drawing herself into the most regal posture she could muster.

"Let's just say I'm glad it's for show," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

Han pretended to ignore that comment as the Oertzen man reached them. The three of them greeted one another with deep bows, the traditional form of welcome.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gunnars, it is my honor to welcome you to Oertzen VI. I trust your passage was safe?"

"Yes," Han said.

The Oertzen smiled.

"Fantastic. My name is Clemmens, and I am the personal aide to Rex Ballak. The Rex regrets that something urgent has transpired just moments before your arrival here and he was called into a meeting. He has rescheduled your appointment for the evening meal tonight."

"Everything is all right, I hope?" Leia asked, her apprehension over the sudden change in plans well hidden by years of diplomatic training.

"It should be fine," Clemmens said quickly, then gestured to a palatial building of shimmering marble behind them, built against a cliff overlooking the sea and the two midmorning suns. "His Majesty has secured a room for you in this hotel if you need to rest, and all of your activities in the interim are to be placed on his bill. Rex Ballak hopes that you will find your stay enjoyable. And he does apologize profusely for this interruption."

"It's no trouble at all," she assured, casting a sideways glance at Han, whose arm was still around her shoulders, as Clemmens turned and began walking with them towards the hotel. He shrugged nonchalantly, but Leia noticed that his grip tightened ever so slightly.

She had felt uneasy about this particular mission from its very inception. It wasn't the first time in the eighteen months since Ryquin that she and Han had been sent on a diplomatic mission together, and alone for that matter, but this was the first time where they were forced to adopt such an elaborate cover. Yes, the Oertzen system was in the Middle Rim and therefore closer to the center of Imperial activities, but the local customs dictated the need for them to be even more furtive. Women in the Oertzen system were not allowed to be seen in public without a man, either a father, brother, or husband, and were sometimes forbidden to speak in certain venues. Leia likened the traditions to be even more strict on gender roles than the Empire itself, but she swallowed any feminist sentiments that she had when she learned that Rex Xavi Ballak, the ruler of the entire system though he resided on the smallest moon, wanted to provide the Alliance with an entire fleet of desperately-needed battle cruisers. Leia had negotiated what seemed like hundreds of these deals in the past, so she was a natural pick for this particular mission. And Rieekan had insisted that Han accompany her and pose as her husband, though for the life of her, Leia couldn't understand exactly why.

At first, Leia tried to convince herself that it was the need for so much secrecy that caused her unquiet. As far as missions went, support negotiations were terribly low in risk, so she often felt that pseudonyms were unnecessary and even sometimes hindered her in systems that became sympathetic to the Alliance after Alderaan was destroyed. It was the need to assume another identity, to pretend to be someone she was not, that made her feel uneasy. She was sure of it.

But the night before their departure, sleep did not come to her. Finally, she realized that she was worried not about taking an alias but about finding herself in such close proximity to Han Solo. They were assuming the most intimate relationship Leia imagined two people could ever have: husband and wife. In public, they would have to walk together, to hold hands, perhaps even kiss in order to maintain their cover. She was uneasy because she wasn't ready to find herself in such a situation with the captain.

She hadn't dared to dream.

The devil-may-care Han Solo had been in her life for over two and a half years, and during that time Leia had found in him a dear friend that she trusted more than she cared to admit. He frustrated her constantly. He enjoyed pushing her buttons to no end, constantly making suggestive comments that made her blush, not because she was so straitlaced but because she was shocked to discover that the things he suggested were things that some part of her wanted to do. So they fought, because that was the only way that Leia knew how to keep herself from revealing to the entire Alliance that she was attracted to him.

Han moved his hand from her shoulders to a dangerous position against the small of her back as they walked, neither of them listening to Clemmens as he rambled on about the attractions of Oertzen VI and their schedule for the evening. She gave him a warning look, but he only grinned and let his hand linger.

Clemmens spoke with the concierge of the hotel and then took his leave, but neither Han nor Leia were very interested in retreating indoors on such a warm and beautiful day, particularly since they had been confined to snowsuits and the frozen Echo Base for the last eighteen months.

"The shore?" Han asked as Clemmens exited the hotel. Leia nodded and they headed down the winding staircase that stretched from the hotel down the cliff to the white sandy beach and purple sea that lapped against it.

Neither of them noticed Mace Windu, who sat on the edge of a low cliff, watching them closely.

They were silent as they walked side by side in the sand, the breeze blowing back Leia's dress and the little strands of chestnut hair that had fallen from the loose braids piled on the back of her head. Han felt his breath catch in his chest at the sight of her against the backdrop of the purple sea. She was alluring, beautiful, she grew more beautiful everyday. But she looked so free, so unlike the prim leader of the Alliance that was never seen with a hair out of place. The culture of Oertzen VI dictated a relaxed attire and demeanor. It was not an attitude that Leia often adopted, but it was one that she seemed to welcome. If she was uneasy when Clemmens mentioned the Rex's sudden change of plans, she seemed to have forgotten it. In the warm, salty breeze coming off the sea, the lines of apprehension on her face had disappeared and the visible tension in her shoulders had relaxed. After they meandered for what felt like an hour to Han, Leia finally turned to him with a tiny smile dancing across her lips.

"I haven't seen the sea in years."

Han sat down in the sand, inches from the tideline, and picked up a bleached-white seashell. He handed to her as she sat next to him.

"Alderaan?"

She nodded.

"We lived along the shore. I would open my windows at night and fall asleep to the sound of the waves, even in the winters."

"Does it make you sad?" Han asked the question tentatively. The second anniversary had come and gone not long ago, and he had again sat with her through the night as she prayed for the lives lost that horrible day. She didn't mention it much anymore, but Han still caught glimpses of the pain of loss in her eyes.

"No. Nostalgic, maybe. But not sad."

She was silent for a moment and then smiled.

"Sure beats Hoth, right?"

Han chuckled.

"That it does."

They fell silent again, listening to the waves crash against the beach. After a time, Han realized that the suns had risen to the midday point in the sky and he was growing hungry. He lifted a hand, extended his index finger, and touched it to his nose. Leia noticed the movement from the corner of her eye and turned to him with a confused look.

"What are you doing?"

"Not it."

"Not it?"

"It's a game. You touch your finger to your nose, and the last one to do it gets stuck doing the thing that nobody else wants to."

Leia couldn't help but laugh at that.

"No fair! There are only two of us."

Han shrugged, finger still to his nose.

"What's the thing, anyway?"

"To see who buys lunch. I guess that would be you."

She shook her head.

"Uh huh! It has to be fair. Do it again, count of three."

He took the finger from his nose and sighed.

"Okay. On three. One, two--"

"Three!" Leia exclaimed, touching her finger to her nose before Han could react to the interruption. "Guess you have to buy lunch."

"Well would you look at that? Her Worshipfulness is a cheater!"

She stood up and took a rather dignified stance.

"I did no such thing! We had no stipulations as to our agreement and therefore I was perfectly within reason to alter the moment during which the finger should be placed upon the nose."

Han grinned and stood up as well.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I know, but it will later."

They spent the rest of the afternoon in town, talking and laughing as they walked through the shops that lined the main street. Leia contemplated purchasing several dresses that she found, but eventually decided against it, reasoning that she'd never have an opportunity to wear them. Han was thrilled to see such a carefree side to her. He was surprised that the princess even possessed the ability to relax and enjoy herself. For a few fleeting hours on Oertzen VI, Leia had no responsibilities. There was no Rebellion for her to lead, no soldiers for her to protect. She wasn't the heir to the throne of a planet that no longer existed or haunted by the memories of torture at the hands of the most evil man in the galaxy. She even forgot how often the man she was with made her want to blast something. For those hours before dinner, she was just Leia.

And suddenly realized that he was in love with Just Leia.

But even more than that, he was in love with Princess Leia and Senator Leia and Alliance Leader Leia. He was in love with Bossy Leia and Sad Leia and Infuriating Leia and Ice Princess Leia. He was in love with all of her. She was the reason why he had stayed with the Alliance when his better judgement told him to leave while he still could. She was the person that he wanted to protect, to keep safe, to hold in his arms every night as she fell asleep.

She was the person he wanted to be beside for the rest of his life.

Han fought with her, he realized, because he loved her, had loved her since he first met her. He never once allowed himself to entertain the thought that she might ever be interested in him, a scruffy ex-smuggler, but he still wanted to get under her skin. So he picked fights with her, the haughty princess, the unflappable ice queen, because he knew if he could get past that hardened exterior, he would find the carefree woman that stood before him now. And maybe, just maybe, that woman might fall in love with him, too.

Still, as he watched her, just Leia, who was so blithe that she was acting as though she loved him too, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Just Leia didn't exist on Hoth, she didn't exist in the war. He wondered if he would ever see Just Leia again.

Han's questions were answered, unfortunately, when they were seated at the restaurant for dinner with Rex Ballak. She slipped effortlessly from carefree, laughing Leia to diplomat Leia before he could blink an eye/

"Put your napkin in your lap and fold your hands over it," she whispered to Han as the waiter, a human with brown skin and no hair, obviously not from the Oertzen system, pulled the chair out for her.

"Of course, Your Worship," he mumbled back, suddenly annoyed. He hated formal dinners, but he got the distinct feeling that this would be worse than normal. Just Leia was gone, and he missed her already.

They made polite conversation as they waited for Clemmens and Rex Ballak to arrive. All the while, Leia would mutter directions to him. She told him to take his elbow off the table and to make sure he didn't spill anything as he refilled her glass with the green bottle of bubbling water that had been left on the table for them. Han grit his teeth in frustration, refusing to allow himself a comment that would only serve to make Leia angry. Now was not the time for an argument.

Thirty minutes had passed since they sat down and still Rex Ballak had not arrived and they hadn't received any word. Leia began to run the edge of the napkin on her lap between her fingers, and Han realized that she was becoming anxious. He placed a hand on top of hers and squeezed it lightly, trying to calm her.

"Hey, Princess, it's okay."

She looked at him, almost startled by his genuine compassion in spite of the fact she had been criticizing his every move since they sat down at the table.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Han," she said, nodding towards their waiter who was watching her from a corner across the restaurant. "He's not a native, and look, he's not serving anyone else."

"We're important patrons, Leia," he replied, trying to hide his own growing unease. "They know that they'll be serving the ruler of their system. It makes sense that there would be one person assigned to this table and no others."

She shook her head.

"But why a person? Why not a service droid? All the other tables have service droids. And why a restaurant at all? This is a relatively public place even though we're in a private corner. All of our other negotiations have taken place in private."

Han offered her a small smile, but it was little comfort. She was right and he knew it. He leaned in to her, whispering in her ear. He was maintaining their cover, she knew, but Leia still couldn't help but soak in the comfort that he was offering by being so close. Stealthily, he took his commlink from the inside pocket of his jacket and put it into her hand.

"Go to the 'fresher and comm Rieekan on the encrypted channel. Let him know that we might have been set up. I'm gonna go see if they'll tell us when the Rex is supposed to get here."

Leia nodded and Han gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, standing up as she rose from her seat and walked towards the 'fresher. She passed their waiter on the way, refusing to look at him even though she could feel him watching her. She checked to make sure the 'fresher was empty and did a quick scan for surveillance devices before locking the door and thumbing on the comm. She dialed Rieekan's code on the encrypted channel, but it dropped to the floor and shattered as a hand pressed over her mouth and she was pulled firmly against a man's body. She struggled in the grip and tried to scream, but the more she fought, the tighter the grip around her became. Finally, she gave in and stopped struggling. The man let go and she turned quickly to see their waiter, the man that had been watching her all evening, standing before her.

"Leia Organa," the man said.

"Who are you?"

"Get out of here now."

Leia raised an eyebrow, not ready to trust this stranger.

"You didn't answer my question," she said.

"Who I am is not important, Leia Organa. You have walked into a trap. Rex Ballak is a high-ranking Imperial and is trying to learn the location of the Rebel base."

"That's not possible," she protested. "We have ways of finding out--"

The man held up his hand, silencing her. The he motioned to her shattered commlink.

"They knew you would comm your base when you suspected a set up. All comm calls that leave Oertzen VI are traced. If you comm anyone, the Imperials will know exactly where the call goes."

"Why are you telling me this?"

The man continued as if Leia had never asked a question.

"This restaurant is wired with thermal detonators. Get out now. I have already swept your ship for tracking devices and removed them. Fly low in the atmosphere until you get to the south side of the moon. There are no star destroyers there and you will be able to make the jump safely."

Leia inhaled sharply.

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because everything will be lost if you don't. Leave now, Leia Organa, or you will die."

The man watched her as she left the 'fresher and walked as casually as she could to their table. Han stood up as she approached and kissed her cheek. She caught his arm as he did and whispered in his ear.

"We have to go. Now."

He nodded and took her hand and began to lead her to the front entrance. Leia looked to her right and saw the waiter watching them from the shadows. He shook his head and looked towards a small door behind them, a more private back entrance. Leia nodded and tugged Han's hand, leading him out the back. He followed her closely, and they both took off in a run as the door slid shut behind them. They made it only a few meters before they heard a loud crack and were thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion in the restaurant. Han landed on top of Leia in an attempt to shield her from flying debris. A moment later, he helped her to her feet and they watched in horror as the restaurant was engulfed in flames.

"The waiter!" Leia screamed, suddenly. She took a running step towards the inferno, but Han caught her in his arms and pulled her back.

"He saved our lives, Han! We have to help him!" She struggled against his grip, but he only tightened his hold on her.

"Leia! Leia, you can't help him! Everything that was in there is gone!"

"But--"

"Listen to me, Leia," he interrupted, turning her to face him. "He knew the building was going to go. I'm sure he got out, too."

She was silent for a moment and then nodded. He took her hand and they began running towards the _Falcon, _which was in a hanger not far from where they were. They boarded the ship quickly, and Leia detailed the instructions she had been given to ensure a safe departure from Oertzen VI. Han did as he was told, flying low enough out of the hangar to remain undetected but high enough to avoid fire from any AT-ATs or Walkers that might be stationed on the moon.

From his position, safely hidden on the roof of a nearby building, Mace Windu watched silently as the princess that he had sworn to protect made her safe escape.


	11. The Winter Wedding of Wedge Antilles

A/N: The things about Bria Tharen in this chapter are all from Wookieepedia. I haven't read any of the EU books, so sorry if something is inaccurate.

Chapter Eight: The Winter Wedding of Wedge Antilles

"_I asked and you were born; And like the snow you fall upon me; You've got me begging for some more..."_

O.A.R., ""52-50"

--

The cynics believed that all is fair in love and war, but Luke never understood how they could compare the two in the first place. Love was something that all to often got cast aside during times of war. After all, what about war made it possible for love to flourish? It was dark and ugly and evil, and love was everything the opposite. Love, he imagined, though he was unsure he'd ever experienced it before, was bright and beautiful and good.

Han disagreed. He had been in love once before. Her name was Bria, and he spent several months staring into bottomless glasses of Whyren's Reserve trying to forget her. Their love had not been one of the songs that played so often. It was bitter and cold and if their relationship had been anything it was physical, almost animalistic. Bria's fire in the bedroom was only matched by her temper, and even though he hated her more than he loved her, it still hurt when she was finally gone. He understood how someone could compare love and war because to him, love had been war.

After Bria, Han had never wanted to fall in love again. He began his career as a smuggler to protect himself, to give him an excuse to not to stay in one place for too long so he could never be tied down again. He became gruff and cynical and rakish--women could warm his bed, but they could never stay past morning. Women who knew Han Solo knew that he would never have a meaningful relationship with anything other than his Wookiee and his ship. He erected his reputation, his armor, carefully; he wanted to protect himself from ever falling in love again.

Han knew from the very first time he saw Leia that his armor couldn't survive her.

And he finally admitted to himself in the breeze of Oertzen VI that he was in love with her.

Leia was so different from all the other women in the galaxy, the women against whom Han had protected himself. She was regal and intelligent and strong and independent and so many other things he never thought that he wanted in a woman. And she was beautiful, but her beauty wasn't artificial or manufactured or painted-on or skin-deep. Her beauty was real and soft and made its way past the pain in her heart and the tension on her face. Leia, like Bria, drove Han crazy, but unlike Bria, the insanity that Leia inspired was something for which Han begged. He thrived on their arguments, loved the moments where he saw the flash of fire in her eyes and she bit out her most clever retort.

They used to sting, but Han had started to like the pain.

Han had given up hope long ago that his arguments with Leia would be taken at face value by the members of the Alliance. After they returned from Oertzen VI two months ago, he also gave up hope that his friends wouldn't realize that he was in love with the princess. Everyone knew that Han was interested in more than just bedding Leia, but there was talk just the same. He tried to ignore the ongoing wagers and lewd comments from the pilots. He didn't talk about it with anyone, not even Chewie or Luke. But Han did find an unlikely friend in his fellow Corellian, Wedge Antilles. Wedge and Han were not so different from each other. They were both rough around the edges and both excellent pilots and both had reputations for being rakish flirts. But Wedge knew, as Han had unwittingly discovered, that even the most debonair Corellians were capable of falling in love, because Wedge himself had found it in the most unlikely of circumstances.

Rogue Two had fallen in love with Pax Owren, the Ryquin woman that had joined the Rebellion following the death of her child. Leia found Pax a position as a medic assistant and Wedge met her very soon after she joined. He had been injured in the Middle Rim campaign and Pax tended to him when he came out of the bacta tank. Their courtship had taken time. Pax was still healing from the destruction of Ryquin and the death of her infant son, but Wedge, surprisingly, had been patient. He had courted her slowly on Santee and for their first year and a half on Hoth until she finally admitted that she was in love with him as well. Even though the Alliance was crammed into the frozen Echo Base and the location was less than ideal, Wedge had secured the mess hall for an impromptu wedding in military-issued snowsuits and a reception of ration bars. General Dodonna had agreed to officiate, and Rogue Two was beside himself with joy.

Luke marveled that love had managed to find its way through the hells of war at all.

Han knew that it was more common than everyone thought.

"You sure about this, Wedge?" Han asked him the night before the wedding. Had they been anywhere else, the Rogues would have taken him out for drinks at a seedy tap. Instead, they settled for a sober game of sabacc, and Han, Luke, and Wedge had continued to play after the rest of the pilots retired for the evening.

"As sure as anything," Wedge replied, grinning.

"Do you worry ever," Luke asked, "That something is going to happen? Wouldn't it be smart to wait until after the war?"

Luke and Han had become good friends since they met in the Mos Eisley cantina two and a half years ago. He'd watched the kid mature quickly, but he was still so young and years of fighting a war and leading a squadron of pilots had not yet taught him that sometimes it was better not to plan. They were different, Luke and Han, in that respect. Luke wasn't quite ready to shoot first.

"I think about it sometimes," Wedge answered. "But that's exactly why I want to do this now. I love Pax. I fight in a war." His eyes left Luke and he looked squarely at Han, as if he wanted his next point to hit home with his fellow Corellian. "We aren't guaranteed tomorrow to stop fighting and start letting ourselves be in love."

Luke held his breath for a moment as Han eyed Wedge, certain that he wasn't going to take that advice very well. But instead he broke out into a crooked grin and clapped Wedge on the shoulder.

"Well look at you, the philosopher!"

Luke could feel what Wedge as about to ask next, and he knew that Han wasn't going to take it well.

"I think you should tell Leia."

Han's face didn't change as he focused on his sabacc hand, but Luke felt his mood darken.

"Tell her what?"

Wedge placed two cards down on the table.

"You know."

Han glanced up and caught Luke's gaze for a moment. He knew that Luke had given up any passing attraction in the princess long ago, but he still didn't want to offend the kid. Before Han could say anything, however, Luke spoke up.

"I agree with Wedge."

Han shook his head and threw a few more chips into the middle of the table.

"I'm not gonna tell her."

"Why not?" Luke protested, throwing some of his own chips in as well.

Han was quiet for a moment, staring intently at his sabacc hand. He knew exactly why not, and he was sure Luke knew as well. As much as Han loved Leia, he couldn't stay much longer. One of the Rogue pilots had come back from a recent shore leave with the news that Jabba had increased the bounty on his head. Han was many things, a gambler, a smuggler, a cynic, but he was not a man that begged out of debts. He had given his original reward credits back to the Alliance, but Rieekan had insisted on paying him a meager pilot's salary after he decided to help, and he finally had enough to settle with the crime lord. It would be a dangerous job, but Han knew enough of Jabba to know that the Hutt liked him enough to give him another chance, even if it took some aggressive negotiation.

But he also knew enough of Jabba that the Hutt hated him enough to kill him the second he set foot in the palace.

He couldn't offer Leia the love of a dead man.

"Because, Kid," he said finally, "I'm not gonna be around for much longer." He threw down his hand and stood up from the table. "I win."

Wedge and Luke could only shake their heads as Han walked away.

If Han had left his friends in a surly mood, he had calmed entirely the next morning. He was the first to stand up and cheer as Dodonna pronounced Wedge and Pax husband and wife, and it was his suggestion that they throw open the shield doors and let the celebration move from the cramped hangar bay to the relatively bearable snow outside of the base. Rieekan agreed, but only because recent careful surveillance had reported a decrease in native species activity and because the planet had been without snowfall for several days. The Rebels welcomed the opportunity to go outside in the bright sunlight and forget about the war, if even for a moment. Everyone donned their fur-lined parkas and joined Wedge and Pax for their first dance in the snow.

Han, Luke, and Chewie were standing beside each other, watching the newlyweds as they danced. Leia, who had been standing with Rieekan, spotted them and made her way through the crowd to her dearest friends. They greeted her warmly.

"They look so happy," Leia mused as she stood between them and snaked an arm around each man's waist.

"It's amazing how love managed to find its way through such tragedy," Luke agreed.

Han smiled a little at that and glanced down at Leia, who to his surprise was already looking at him. She dropped her head immediately and he saw her cheeks flush ever so slightly, but he told himself that it was the cold.

The four of them watched the dance before them, and neither Han nor Leia suspected Wes Janson's presence behind them until Luke suddenly broke away and spun around in enough time to tackle his fellow Rogue and prevent him from putting a well-formed snowball down the back of Leia's parka. As Luke and Wes went down, Han, Leia and Chewie were suddenly ambushed by snowballs. Leia turned in time to see at least Hobbie Klivian, Tycho Celchu, and Biggs Darklighter coming after them, but she had no time to react because Han had grabbed her arm and they began running for cover behind a nearby snowbank. They dove behind it together, laughing, and Han immediately began scooping up snow for ammunition of his own.

"Quick! Make snowballs!"

Grinning, Leia did as she was told, and they were soon joined by Luke, Chewie, Wedge, and Pax. The group very quickly had enough snowballs to put up a rather formidable defense, especially considering that Chewie's snowballs were about twice the size of the others. Each grabbing an armful, the group made their way from behind the bank, hurling snowballs blindly as they were pelted by the rest of Rogue Squadron.

Leia had a great arm and was able to hit her target with every throw, but she was soon out of ammunition. Han laughed as he noticed, threw his own last snowball and hit Wes square in the face, and motioned for Leia to follow him behind the base so they could plan a sneak attack. They both collapsed in laughter as soon as they were safely behind the cover of the shield generator, lying next to each other in the snow.

"I feel like a little girl," Leia said with a giggle. Han didn't know she could giggle. He smiled back but said nothing, suddenly captivated by the princess and his proximity to her. In the white light reflecting of the snow, he could see a hint of a scar over her left eyebrow, a souvenir from Oertzen IV, when she had cut her head against the ground as the restaurant exploded behind them. He remembered bandaging that cut as soon as they were safely in hyperspace, how she had thanked him for shielding her from the explosion...

Han's eyes fell from Leia's scar to her lips. Her smile had faded as she studied him, but she wasn't unhappy. Instead she was expectant, maybe even nervous. He forced himself to look back into her eyes, and her own gaze traveled from his lips to lock eyes with him. Han took a deep breath. He wanted to kiss her, wanted so desperately to feel her lips on his. Did she want it, too? He tested her. He moved his mouth closer to hers and she didn't pull away. Slowly, he inched towards her, his heart pounding in his ears, closer, closer, closer. She turned her head ever so slightly, offering him a better angle, and he titled his own, his lips just millimeters from descending on hers.

Suddenly, Leia gasped and sat up quickly, staring wide-eyed at the sky. Han swore under his breath and then turned, reluctantly, to see what had startled her. Leia was already scrambling to her feet. He stood up as well and his own jaw dropped at the sight. It was a ship, rounded, formidable, and rather elegant, lacking the sharp edges of an Imperial vessel, and it was being cleared for landing in the hangar bay.

"Han," she breathed as she stepped towards the approaching shuttle. "That's the _Resplendent! _That's my father's ship!"


	12. Conversations with the Force

Chapter Nine: Conversations with the Force

"_Troubles are brought back by you; Funny how we, we go down; We go anywhere; But to the ground..."_

Dispatch, "Mayday"

--

"Unwise it was, to reveal yourself to her."

Mace Windu brushed away a small grey snake that had begun to slither its way up his leg. In all his time spent on Dagobah, he would never get used to the swampy environment that Yoda called home. He lifted a spoonful of the root-bark soup, yet another feature of Dagobah that he couldn't stand, swallowed, and suppressed a grimace before defending his actions on Oertzen VI with the bitter mockery of a Jedi tribunal that sat before him.

"I had no choice," he said calmly. "She was about to comm the base. She would have been killed and the Alliance would have been exposed."

Yoda's brow furrowed.

"Destroy everything it could if she learns too early."

"It would have destroyed everything if she had contacted Rieekan."

The spirit of Qui-Gon Jinn cleared his throat, interrupting the two living Jedi masters seated next to him.

"Does she know who you are?"

"No. I only told her to get out of the restaurant."

"And what about Organa?" Asked Obi-Wan Kenobi's spirit.

"He understands the situation."

"Tell her, will he?"

"I asked him to keep it from her."

Qui-Gon nodded in agreement.

"The Skywalker children are headstrong, and Leia has quite a bit of Anakin in her. I think it is best to let the Force to lead the way in this matter."

"She was with Solo again," Mace added.

"Good," said Qui-Gon.

"For a man who doesn't believe in it," Obi-Wan said with an ambient smile, "the Force seems to have very big plans for him."

"Drawn to Solo are Force-sensitives," Yoda confirmed. "Friend and protector of the Jedi he may become."

Qui-Gon nodded slightly. Friend and protector, yes, but he had foreseen that Han Solo would very soon become much more than that to the Jedi. The future of the Jedi Order, the Alliance, and the galaxy depended on it.

"The time is nearing," he said finally as he turned to Obi-Wan. "Luke will need to be trained more fully if he is to help Leia at all. You will need to appear to him soon."

"Train him, I will," Yoda said quietly. "And Leia's master Mace can become, when she is ready."

"She is stronger in the Force than we realized," Obi-Wan mused, almost to no one.

Mace nodded but said nothing, praying silently that the Force would give him the strength to train the headstrong woman that had long ago been predestined to deliver peace to the galaxy.

--

In the years since he had ceased to be Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader had little in the way of dreams. His slumbers were induced comas, necessary to restore what was left of his human body during his rest. He had cast aside his memories, images of his mother's smiling face, Padme's joy when she announced her pregnancy, years ago when the guilt of what might have been became too much to bear. He slept only because it was vital to survival and in the mornings had never once idled in his chamber, enjoying those last, languid minutes of twilight.

There were the nights, intermittent though they were, when another woman had haunted his dreams. She came to him in a vision, even a nightmare, the night after he first met her, a feisty sixteen year-old princess from Alderaan, and he dreamt of her at every meeting thereafter. The nights where he held her captive had been particularly arduous. She was so defiant, so refractory, and so much like someone he had forced himself to forget over twenty years ago. His anguish over her captivity, a time of torture that he had demanded himself, surprised him. How could she, this tiny senator that simply bore a resemblance to a woman he once knew, a girl in possession of no remarkable powers whatsoever other than sheer stubbornness, have taken such a hold on his mind? His own master had sensed Vader's torment through the Force, a torment that he worked fervently to conceal.

But then she escaped his clutches and the Death Star was destroyed by a young man that he would soon learn was his very own offspring. As his pursuit of Luke Skywalker, the pursuit of his son, intensified, Vader forgot about the young girl that haunted his mind. After all, what was her place in this war? She was only a thorn in his side, a small obstacle to overcome if he was to ever turn Luke to the ways of the Sith.

Why was it, then, that he had awoken this morning after another dream about her? He hadn't seen her in years, hadn't thought about her in almost as long. There was nothing that should have triggered his mind to wander in her direction.

And then he had his realization.

Leia Organa was the only person in the galaxy that could lead him to his son.


	13. The Viceroy of Alderaan

Chapter Ten: The Viceroy of Alderaan

"_If you die will I get word that you're gone; Or will I hear it in passing conversation; Will I stop short and fall to the ground?"_

Dispatch, "Elias"

--

Until Mace Windu found him on Naboo, living under the protection of Senator Jar Jar Binks and the Naberrie family, Bail Organa assumed his only daughter to be dead. By some fortunate turn in the Force, Senator Binks had requested his presence as a mediator for a Nabooan civil peace summit, and Bail had departed Alderaan the same day Leia's ship was taken captive by the Imperials. It was a three day trip, and his home planet had already been decimated by the time he dropped out of hyperspace. Pooja Naberrie, niece of Padme Amidala, underground Alliance supporter, and one of Leia's dear friends in the Imperial Senate, maintained that it was too dangerous for Bail to return to the system and insisted he stay on Naboo. Alderaan, she claimed, was as much a warning to the galaxy as it was a political assassination, and Bail would only remain safe as long as the Empire presumed him dead.

As difficult as it was to accept, Pooja had added, they had to assume that Leia had been executed, too, not long after Alderaan was destroyed. Bail had received a transmission saying that everyone aboard the _Tantive IV _had been killed, but the Imperials couldn't have been more obvious in their actions by choosing his home as the planet to be destroyed first. Clearly, they had taken Leia hostage and interrogated her, and clearly the targeting of Alderaan was a rather aggressive form of negotiation. And though Bail knew that Pooja was right, he still clung tightly, secretly, to his belief in his daughter's unwavering will. If there was a way to survive, his little Lelila would.

Bail had surrendered himself to the mind-numbing task of hiding, running small missions for the Rebellion when he could, for over two years on Naboo until the day that Mace Windu announced his presence at the Binks home. Windu was yet another person that Bail had assumed dead. It was widely believed that the Jedi had been murdered during the purges twenty years ago, and though Windu had survived his battle with Chancellor Palpatine, he had also been forced into hiding. He became a medic and traveled throughout the galaxy, healing those that needed it most desperately, and had been on Ryquin when he first encountered Leia Organa. Bail welcomed the presence of his old friend and even more the news of his daughter's survival, but he had been grossly unprepared for what Windu would reveal to him next.

They had taken afternoon tea in a private garden in the Naberrie home, surrounded only by the lush greens and blues of Nabooan foliage, when Windu explained what the Jedi had learned about Bail's adopted daughter and her unknown twin brother.

"I thought the future was always in motion," Bail mused, quietly, after a sip of tea.

Windu nodded.

"Yes, it is."

"But you say this with such certainty."

"You would rather Leia remain unprotected?" The older Jedi asked the question as if almost to himself, but Bail felt himself bristle anyway.

"Of course I want her to be safe," he replied, a cordial warning. "But I don't want to see my daughter imprisoned by some future that she didn't chose for herself."

"You think that she wouldn't chose this?" Windu challenged. "She has devoted her life to the Alliance, to peace. If she's anything like her father," he smiled softly, as if to say even he didn't consider Anakin Skywalker to be anything but the man that sired Leia, "She will embrace that which is right."

--

The soldiers on Echo Base were nearly silent as the elegant ship glided effortlessly into the main hangar bay, rendered speechless by its sudden appearance. The few members among them that were Alderaanian knew it exactly, but couldn't believe that this relic from their planet, this ghost ship, was truly before their eyes. Any residual wedding celebration, any careless snow wars, had all come to an abrupt halt. There was a collective holding of breath as the ramp released with a hiss and the ship's sole occupant made his descent into the base.

The silence was pierced by one scream.

"Father!"

Leia sprinted into the hangar bay in enough time to see Bail take his final step off the ship and had forgotten any lesson she had ever learned about displaying emotion in public as the crowds parted in front of her and she ran into her father's open embrace. He encircled her quickly into his arms, his eyes glistening with the same tears that his daughter had already let fall, tears of astonishment, of anguish, of love. Bail smiled at her when she finally pulled away, brushing a thumb across her cheek.

"My Lelila."

Leia had a smile on her face that most people in the base had never seen before. Carlist Rieekan had seen it, of course, as he watched her grow up on Alderaan, joyful and vibrant under the close care of her father. Luke had seen it once before, when he had detailed a particularly embarrassing injury that he had witnessed Han receive, the two of them hiding out in their friend's room in the medcenter as he recovered. Han had seen it more than anyone else, always in their most private moments together, always when he had gotten her to open up about her childhood. It was a brilliant smile, one that revealed to the galaxy that she had forgotten everything else but her elation in that moment. It was a smile that was contagious, infectious, that appeared on the countenances of everyone she passed.

It was a smile that was a little too easy to fall in love with.

The tender reunion between Leia and Bail was over the moment they pulled out of their embrace, replaced then by a swarm of admirers and old friends that shared Leia's disbelief at her father's survival. Rieekan was at the front of the fray, welcoming his dear old friend back to the living, and escorting the Viceroy and his daughter to more comfortable and private quarters. Luke watched them retreat, slowly making his way to stand next to Han and Chewie. Han's eyes were following Leia as well, and though the sides of his mouth ticked upward in a small smile, Luke noticed the slightest glint of ache reflected in the hardened smuggler's hazel orbs. He wondered briefly about his friends' disappearance during the snowball fight. Both Han and Leia had ducked behind the shield generator, causing Wedge to throw Luke a knowing grin. Luke had rolled his eyes in reaction. Though he had long since accepted that the Force had other plans for Leia and him, he still didn't like to let his mind wander in the direction of his closest two friends in a more private moment.

Luke considered briefly asking the other man what was on his mind, then thought better of it and suggested that they find any leftover reception food before the mess droids began to clean up the base. Han nodded but said nothing, and the two men and the Wookiee walked together down the icy hallway to the mess hall, where the last remnants of Pax and Wedge's wedding reception were just beginning to be cleared away.

"I wonder how her father managed to survive," Luke mused around a mouthful of food as they sat down at a table that had been pushed haphazardly into a corner in the midst of the celebration. Chewie growled in equal wonder, but Han only shrugged, almost absentmindedly.

"One thing's for sure," Luke added after a moment's silence, "We won't be seeing much of Leia in the next few days."

Luke's prediction proved to be correct. Though both men met Leia intermittently in the hallways, she ceased what had become a ritual for the four of them over the past three years. Of course, she only joined them when no one was scheduled to be on duty for the night cycle or when she wasn't in meetings until late or when she and Han were speaking, but it had nonetheless become a tradition. Leia would take her evening meal with them, and they would spend time together until an hour before lights out, sometimes playing variations on sabacc that Han taught them, sometimes telling funny stories, sometimes doing nothing at all. Since her father had arrived at Echo Base, however, Leia had spent the past five nights taking her evening meal with High Command and talking with her father and Rieekan, leaving little time for her old friends at all. Han, Luke, and Chewie understood of course, Luke a little more than Han, but they still all missed the camaraderie with Leia though they refused to admit it.

On the sixth night, however, Leia was already waiting for them when they arrived in the mess hall, looking rather apologetic.

"My father would like the three of you to join us for dinner tonight in his quarters." She hesitated, then added with a smile, "And I would like to apologize for being so distant these past few days."

"Distant is hardly how I would describe it," Han grumbled, drawing warning looks from Leia, Luke, and Chewie. Luke then shook his head and placed a reassuring hand on the princess' shoulder.

"We understand, Leia. You just got your father back. And we would love to join you for dinner, wouldn't we, Han?"

The older man rolled his eyes but gave an exaggerated gesture, indicating that Leia should lead the way.

If Luke had been expecting an elegant dinner in elaborate quarters, he would have been disappointed. High Command's section of the base was not unlike that of the general population, with the small exception being additional office space. Bail's quarters were identical to Leia's: a low-ceilinged room that served as kitchen, dining room, and office that was separated by a thin partition that led into a single-bunk bedroom and small attached refresher. The walls were made of ice, as was every other wall in Echo Base, but somehow the presence of five people and a Wookiee made the quarters warm, if not comfortable. The four of them, plus Bail and Rieekan, crowded into the main room, sitting on the three small chairs and the floor, and dined on a meager dinner of rationed slop identical to the one being served in the main mess hall. Luke was courteous enough not to comment on the small quarters, but Han just couldn't help himself as he took a seat on the floor next to Leia's chair.

"Guess it's not dinner at the royal palace, huh?"

Luke wanted to bury his head in his hands as the words were coming out of Han's mouth, but surprisingly, Bail, Rieekan, and Leia were all smiles at the comment.

"Wouldn't be fair if it were anything else, would it, Captain Solo?" Rieekan asked.

Han shrugged.

"I dunno. I've never been one for playing fair."

There was a small chuckle and Luke couldn't help but marvel at Han's effortless ability to defuse what could have been an awkward and intimidating meal within moments of entering the presence of one of the most powerful leaders in the galaxy, who also happened to be the father of the woman that they both adored so much.

The meal progressed well, with Han and Luke dominating the conversation with exciting stories they had shared with Leia, most of which involved the Viceroy's daughter being in some sort of life-threatening danger, all of which ended in the saving of her life. Leia found the stories embarrassing, but Bail couldn't help but feel a swell of pride when he learned of his little girl's unwavering devotion to the Alliance despite his worries about the risk to her life. He felt a swelling of gratitude, too, however, at the two young men that valued Leia's life more than their own.

Though Bail knew exactly who Luke Skywalker was and his relationship to his daughter, he did nothing to belie this information. Mace had warned him that the time was not yet right for the twins to learn of their relationship or their heritage. He considered telling them for a moment when Carlist mentioned he had observed something of a love triangle between Han, Luke, and Leia over the past three years, but the feeling passed as his old friend continued to say that Luke and Leia's relationship was one of dear friends and nothing further. The news came as a relief to Bail, who was loathe to reveal to Leia the identity of her true father, particularly in the wake of the harm she had suffered at his hands in recent years.

Carlist also made sure that Bail Organa knew of his daughter's relationship with the smuggler Han Solo. Though the two of them fell into constant bickering that often escalated to the point of the silent treatment for days or even weeks after, it was blatantly clear to the other members on base that their fighting was little more than a thinly-veiled attempt to cover deeper feelings, truer feelings, scarier feelings that neither of them were quite ready to accept. Carlist had done his very best to play Alliance matchmaker, sending them on missions together when he could, but both Leia and Han were entirely too stubborn to make the first move.

Bail found even more comfort in this news than he had the news of Leia's friendship with her own brother. He revealed to Carlist what he had learned of Leia's future from Mace Windu, providing his friend with only the most necessary of information lest he be captured and questioned in the matter. But the old Jedi had told him that Leia's future was implicitly dependent upon and intertwined with Han's, intertwined in a way that Bail was unsure he ever would have chosen for his little girl, but he was pleased to learn that, despite whatever reservations she had, Leia would thankfully find happiness and joy in the man that the Force had picked to be her protector and savior years before she was ever born.

Dinner quickly came to a close when Leia glanced at her wrist chrono and realized that lights out had come five minutes before. Luke, and Chewie took their leave almost immediately, Leia lingered for a moment longer and then made her way back to her quarters, but Bail stopped Han quietly as he began to follow Leia out the door.

"Might I have a moment, Captain?"

Han froze but didn't immediately turn. His mind began to race, he began to replay a thousand reasons why Leia's father might want to speak to him, none of them good. When he finally turned to face the Viceroy of Alderaan, he did so with his very best indifferent sabacc face, despite the fact that the beat of his heart had quickened noticeably.

"Yes, sir?" Han cast a sideways glance at Rieekan, who sat back down on the chair he had vacated just seconds ago. Bail did the same, so Han followed suit, this time taking his own chair instead of a place on the floor.

"Captain, I understand that you have been a constant support to my daughter for the past three years."

Han couldn't help but snort.

"Sir, I don't know where you've heard these rumors, but I doubt that Leia would say I offer her much in the way of support. Heart attacks, maybe, but not support."

Rieekan grinned at that, and though Bail's face remained peacefully stoic, his eyes betrayed the slightest hint of amusement.

"Leia told me that you replaced her nerf doll on the first anniversary of-" a pause, "Alderaan."

Han suddenly found his boots very interesting.

"I did."

"And that you saved her life when she was stricken with illness after an aid operation."

"I don't think you could say I saved her life. I just did what the medic said."

Bail waved his hand.

"Captain Solo, you have been a protector to my daughter on a number of occasions, and for that, I am truly grateful."

Han glanced up and nodded slightly. He got the eerie feeling that the Viceroy didn't ask him to stay behind just to thank him for saving Leia from a few tight spots.

He was right.

"Han," Bail began, surprising the younger man slightly as he used his first name, "I understand that you have run into a problem with an Outer Rim crime lord?"

Han felt himself flush ever so slightly but said nothing. Bail smiled as if to reassure him.

"We all have prices on our head, Captain, but I understand that yours is more pressing than most."

"I don't know if you can call it that." He looked up and caught the older man's eye squarely. "I'm just not the kind of guy to beg off of old debts."

"And that's very noble, so please don't make any mistake as to how I feel. But Carlist says you're planning on leaving soon to take care of this problem?"

Again, Han nodded. For a man who was very good at reading people, he had no idea where this conversation was going.

"Have you thought about what you might do after you pay this debt?"

Finally, Han got it. A wave of realization passed over his face, resulting in a crooked smile that was anything but friendly.

"I'll get to that, sir, if I make it out of Jabba's palace alive."

Bail and Rieekan exchanged a glance. The three men were silent for a long moment before Bail finally sighed and asked the last question Han ever expected to hear.

"Han, how do you feel about Leia?"

The smuggler opened his mouth to say something, but found that words had left him completely. Instead he shook his head and stood. He had been interrogated many times before, but never once had such a line of questioning made him feel as though the walls were closing in around him. One thing was sure, he was finished with this conversation. He nodded to both men and then turned to let himself out of Bail's quarters.

"Han."

Bail's voice caused him to freeze at the door and grit his teeth in frustration, but he did not turn around.

"The battle for what you love is the only battle that is ever worth fighting."


	14. Hyperspace

A/N: Forgot to say this last chapter, but many thanks to Srellet for letting me hash out whether or not Bail Organa should be alive. He was originally going to appear in a dream sequence, but it wound up like this. Hope you liked it!

Chapter Eleven: Hyperspace

"_Walking like a one man army; Fighting with the shadows in your head; Living up the same old moment; Knowing you'd be better off instead; If only you could say what you need to say..."_

John Mayer, "Say"

--

One thing Leia liked about the _Millennium Falcon _is that it was never truly dark. Since her captivity on the Death Star, she couldn't stand to be in total darkness. It was thick, suffocating, it made her want to claw at her eyes, at the walls, at something to let in the light. She felt crushed under the weight of darkness, she felt the presence of the billions of souls that perished on Alderaan. But the _Falcon _was never truly dark, even during the night cycle, because the small lights that illuminated the hallways when the rest of the ship was dimmed extended into her cabin, casting a pale, moonlight glow around her room that brought her peace and comfort and sanity.

She and Han were off on another mission, once again alone. This was a two-day trip for a mission that should take all of five minutes. They were well on their way to the planet of Ord Mantell to transfer off-world funds that the House of Organa had established in a secure bank during the Clone Wars. Her father had secretly moved the majority of the Organa's monetary wealth to this bank nearly three years before Leia was captured by Vader, wisely fearing that heightened Imperial suspicion in Alderaan's Alliance sympathies would make the planet a target. Though Ord Mantell had a reputation that was seedy at its very best, the main bank was one of the most secure in the galaxy and the planet's reputation alone meant that few would suspect the entire Organa fortune to be housed there.

Two days after their dinner together, Bail announced that he was departing for Sullust to oversee the final preparations of the new Gamma Base, which put Leia in a rather sour mood. When she thought her father to be dead, her mind had conveniently allowed her to forget those qualities about him that she found infuriating as a child, namely, his propensity for work. It was a quality that Leia had inherited from him, if not by nature than by nurture, but it angered her all the same. She had just gotten her father back and he was leaving her again, running missions for the Alliance again, and sending her off to do the same again. She accepted the mission graciously as she always did, out of devotion to the Alliance and duty to her father, but she couldn't help but wonder to herself if she would have been so willing to go if Bail hadn't asked.

Han had looked particularly uneasy when Bail called them both to Rieekan's office and requested that they leave that afternoon, and Leia could only conjecture as to why. Neither he nor her father had mentioned anything about their talk after dinner the other night, so Leia assumed that Han, like herself, was more than slightly apprehensive about spending so much time alone with her. It was nearing two weeks since their near-kiss in the snow behind the shield generator, and Leia had been almost unable to look Han in the eyes since. She couldn't be sure what she felt, shame, fear, desire, but she knew, just knew, that she had wanted desperately for the kiss to happen and had no idea how to address that. Perhaps Han didn't either, because instead they both opted to ignore its near-existence, a solution that was maddening if it was anything at all.

Leia heaved a sigh as she climbed out of her bunk and found her white shimmersilk dressing robe in the pale light. She cinched it around her waist and padded softly to the galley where she found a fresh batch of kaffe simmering quietly in the machine. Assuming the ship's captain already had some, she poured herself a mug and followed the swirling blue lights of hyperspace to the cockpit.

Han raised an eyebrow as he sipped his mug of kaffe, but said nothing as Leia sank down into Chewie's oversized seat.

"How much longer?" She murmured after she took a swallow of her own steaming kaffe. Kaffe on the _Falcon _was always strong, but it tasted even more so after weeks of the Alliance's watered-down concoction.

"Six hours until we drop out of lightspeed."

"Do you want to rest? I can watch her."

Han couldn't stop the crooked grin that crossed his face at that. Leia had piloted his girl on every trip they had taken together since she first learned over Ryquin, and while he had little doubt that she would be good at it, he was surprised at how well the ship took to her. Piloting was like a dance between captain and ship, and the _Falcon _was the most fickle of dance partners. His girl liked to lead and he thought that perhaps she wouldn't take kindly to a little woman that also liked to be in control. But Leia was a sharp pupil and her mind memorized the subtleties of the ship with an ease that even he did not enjoy. He didn't want to admit it, but she was the only one besides Chewie that he had ever trusted with his girl.

"I'm okay for now. But I can always use the company."

Leia nodded and settled in. The swirling light played across her face, illuminating and casting shadows all at once. Han thought Leia was beautiful all the time, but he thought she was most beautiful in the shimmering light of hyperspace. She was not looking at him. Instead, he followed her eyes out the viewport, Leia, too, hypnotized by the dancing light that was almost as captivating as she.

"Luke said you were thinking of leaving," she said finally, her voice soft, almost sad. He glanced at her, but she was still staring outside.

"Yeah. I've managed to save up enough to pay Jabba, plus a little extra interest to hopefully keep him from shoving a blaster down my throat the moment I get there."

Leia's stomach lurched at the thought.

"He has no idea where you are," she said after sip of kaffe, swallowing the bile that she tasted in her throat.

Finally, he swiveled his seat to face her fully. She had tucked her legs beneath her and was now staring intently into her mug of kaffe. His heart tightened in that moment as he regarded her. She looked so small, so sad, so much like a child.

"I can't hold him off forever."

She closed her eyes and ran her bottom lip through her teeth.

"No, I suppose you can't."

The silence rang in his ears, drowning out his thoughts. They were quiet for a long moment, he studying her and she studying her kaffe. He waited for her to bring her eyes to meet his before he spoke again.

"Look, Your Worship, every day I don't show up is a day he gets angrier with me."

"Exactly what I would want to walk into," she said, sarcastically.

"Well what do _you _think I should do, Your Highnessness?"

"Stay."

Her eyes widened in shock even as the word left her lips. She hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant to let him know, to even catch a glimpse, of the pain that she knew she would feel the moment he left her.

Han raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Why not? You're safe with us."

He smiled, bitterly, more of a grimace than anything else, and pushed his chair around to face the viewport again.

"I'll take Jabba over Vader any day. At least I know who I'm dealing with."

It was Leia's turn to grimace. They fell into silence again for another long moment, so long that Han wondered if they had run out of things to say. But then Leia pierced the silence with a quiet, pained whisper and a question that sliced through his very soul. She had done this once to him before, in this very same cockpit, just minutes after their narrow, or as she called it, "easy," escape from the Death Star.

"Why don't you care about us?"

For a long moment, Han could do nothing but continue to stare ahead.

"Who is 'us?'"

Leia inhaled sharply, but the shook her head and responded, her voice still a strained whisper.

"The Alliance, of course."

"I care about the members of the Alliance," he said, casually.

"The members of the Alliance?"

Han turned to look at her again.

"Yeah. The Kid is great and so is Wedge and you're...tolerable."

"But you don't care about the cause." It wasn't a question.

"I..." He paused and ran a frustrated hand through his scruffy hair before he continued. "I think it's foolish."

The look of smoldering ire that settled in Leia's eyes would have scared Han if he hadn't seen it so many times before. He had crossed the line and he knew it, but there would be no going back.

"Foolish?" She repeated, her voice dark and low.

"Tell me, Princess, what have you seen that would ever make you believe in the power of good to win out over evil?"

"I've seen the good in others."

"And that's enough?"

"Yes!"

He shook his head, the sarcastic smile returning to his face.

"Don't lie to me like this, Leia. Don't sit here and tell me that after all you've seen you still believe that what's right is gonna prevail. You watched your kriffin' planet get blown to millions of pieces. Where was the good in that, huh? Lieutenant Rhas was killed in the Middle Rim yesterday and left behind a wife and a brand new baby girl. Ten thousand Bothans died last week because some Stormtroopers locked them in a building and set it on fire. Good doesn't win, Leia, so don't tell me that's why you've nearly made yourself a martyr a thousand times. Why do you do it really? Because your dad told you to? Because you feel responsible for all of those people that died on Alderaan? Getting yourself killed isn't going to bring them back, you know, and if you died...well then evil just wins again, doesn't it?"

Leia fought hard against the sharp stinging of tears that sprang to her eyes during Han's verbal onslaught and swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in her throat. She would not be beaten this way.

"Why can't you take a chance, Han? Why can't you take a leap of faith, why can't you believe in something no matter how stupid you think it is? Because it's not foolish. The Alliance is not foolish! Freedom is good and it's right and it's noble and it's how you've lived your whole damn life so I think it's something you might want to fight for!"

"Is it worth dying for, Leia?" He shot back.

"Is that so hard to believe?" It was a swift reply.

"There are things in this galaxy that I would die for before I died for freedom!"

"Oh yeah, like what?"

"You!"

Brown eyes locked with hazel and for a moment, they both froze. Han felt as though his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn't meant to shout that, hadn't meant to let her know that she was the one thing in the galaxy for which he would willingly lay down his life, but he had anyway. Leia's eyes were wide for a moment, incredulous, but then they narrowed and her voice took the same dangerous tone it had a few minutes before.

"Don't patronize me, Han Solo! I'm not a child!"

"Yes, you are! Your blind faith in the Rebellion is childish! You believe in it only because daddy told you to, not because you've made the decision for yourself."

"I have faith in the Rebellion because I believe in justice! That's a lot more than can be said for you."

"Hey, I have faith!"

"Yeah, in your bucket of bolts and your antique blaster."

"I have faith in things that don't fail me."

"Then that's not faith at all!"

He slammed down his empty mug of kaffe so hard that it cracked a little at the base.

"What the hell is this? Do I have to have some sort of belief to be worth anything in your snobby eyes?" She opened her mouth to interrupt but he continued as if he hadn't noticed the motion, cutting her off completely. "Fine! I have faith in a Wookiee's ability to pull the arms of a gundark. I have faith in my sabacc face." He stood up, pointing a finger in her face. "I believe that a lot of good men are going to die senseless deaths before this war is over. I believe that the Force lets Luke move some rocks around but it doesn't control any of us. And I believe that you and I will never get to have the ending that I want. So there, Princess, I'm a man of faith. I hope you're happy." He turned on his heel and began to stalk out of the cockpit, his last words as angry and as bitter as she had ever heard. "Make sure she doesn't lurch when you drop out of lightspeed."

The cockpit door slid shut behind him, leaving alone a stunned princess that could do nothing but stare blankly into the swirling light of hyperspace.


	15. Ord Mantell

Chapter Twelve: Ord Mantell

"_Come and see; I swear by now I'm playing time against my troubles; Oh, I'm coming slow but speeding..."_

Dave Matthews Band. "#41"

--

Han Solo would have preferred all the Vaders and Hutts the galaxy had to offer to the remaining five hours in hyperspace with Leia. The worst was the silence. He hated the silence. Han had lost count of how many times an argument with Leia left them refusing to speak with one another. It could last for hours, for days, for weeks. He was stubborn but she was equally so, and mostly the silent treatment only ended when the guilty party, still stubbornly refusing to admit guilt, made some sort of small joke that brought the other back into the tentative friendship. It was a way of raising the white flag that was their very own.

But this silence was different from all the other silences they had ever shared. Those silences from the past were the result of them both having so much more to say but wisely choosing not to say it. This silence was not the same.

This silence was a loss for words.

She said nothing to him and he to her when he reentered the cockpit nearly five hours later to bring them out of hyperspace and pilot the _Falcon _through the storm that ripped through the thunderstorm that ripped through the Ord Mantell city of Great Rock. The silence remained as they walked the distance to the bank through the rain and thunder and Leia took the ten minutes she needed to transfer some of the Organa funds from the secure account to her father's access chip. And they were silent still as they made their way back through the Great Rock marketplace, a street lined with stalls usually populated by vendors but was now eerily empty because of the torrential downpour. Leia ducked quickly under an awning, as much seeking protection from the rain as she was trying to lose Han, but he followed her, matching her quick footsteps with his long strides, splashing through the mud and the rocky gravel of the vacant street.

Suddenly, he'd had enough of the silence.

"Leia," he said as he reached her. She continued to walk and refused to look at him. Han touched her arm but she jerked it away. "Leia!"

"Stop it," she hissed, stopping so abruptly that Han almost collided with her. Lightning split through the clouds and was followed by a deafening crack of thunder as she spun around, still so beautiful even shrouded by the hood of her cream-colored rain tunic. Fiery brown eyes met hazel and she shoved a finger in his face in a gesture that openly mocked what he had done to her so many times before. "I will not play these games with you."

He raised an eyebrow and pushed back the hood of his own black rain tunic, taking one step closer to her as he did.

"Who the hell is playing games?"

She shoved back her own hood.

"You are! For the last three years it's been the same thing with you! You push and you push and you push and I can't take it anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I don't know what _you're _talking about! The ending that you want? What is that, really, Captain?" She stepped out from beneath the awning into the pouring rain, throwing her arms out in frustration. "To bed me down once before you take off forever?"

Han followed her into the rain, stepping so close that their bodies were flush with one another. From this position she felt as though he towered above her, so Leia drew herself to her full height, ignoring that the action moved her lips ever closer to his.

"No! That's not what I want and you know it!"

"I most certainly do not."

He had never in his life been so torn between wanting to strangle someone and kiss that same person, but he settled for taking a step back from her.

"You're a real piece'a work, you know that, Princess? You talk big about you wanting me to take a chance on something but you're too scared to take a chance yourself."

"Take a chance on what?" She took a step back as well.

He gestured to the space between them.

"On this!"

She shook her head, a look of mixed desire and bewilderment crossing her features, as he stepped back towards her.

"Leia, I'm sick of this."

"Han--"

"Why are we still here, Leia? Why can't we just say what we feel?"

"Han, please," she whispered, unable to bring herself to look into his eyes.

"Look at me and tell me that you have feelings for me. Tell me the truth."

Leia bit her bottom lip and finally met his gaze, thankful that the rain disguised the tears she was suddenly crying.

"I can't."

Han took another step towards her, bringing their bodies to touch once again.

"You can't because you don't feel anything? Or you can't because you won't take a chance?"

"I--I feel--"

"You feel what?"

She shut her eyes tightly, terrified that she would reveal her most secret desires if she sought his hazel orbs.

"You don't want this, Han."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" He reached out and brushed away a wet lock of hair clinging to her forehead, then caressed her cheek with a gentle hand and dipped his head close to hers. She was trembling in his grip, but he couldn't be sure if she was excited or if she was cold from the rain.

"We can't." Her breath was warm against his lips.

"Why not, Leia?"

She parted her lips to give him an answer even though she had no idea what that answer would be but suddenly froze as she felt something shove in between her shoulder blades. Her eyes grew wide with the sudden realization and she looked up, searching for his reaction. Han met her eyes and his hand immediately left her cheek and wrapped around the hilt of the blaster holstered at his waist.

"Don't think about it, Solo," murmured a raspy voice, and Han looked up to see the badly disfigured face of the Corellian bounty hunter Alo Nadeem sneering at him as he snaked an arm around Leia's shoulders and moved his blaster from her back to her temple. Han did not let go of his blaster as he took a step back, and he saw Leia stiffen as Alo disengaged the safety of his weapon with a sickening click.

"Let her go, Alo!" Han demanded.

The bounty hunter simpered and shook his head.

"I hear there's a price on the pretty girl's head, too. After I deliver you to Jabba, Solo, I'll take her to Coruscant."

"And what do you think they'll do to you there?" Leia questioned, suddenly. Han shot her a warning look, but she continued even as Nadeem pulled her closer to him and retreated from Han. "The Empire doesn't look kindly on bounty hunter scum. You'll be locked up for years after they kill me."

Nadeem sneered.

"You've bagged yourself a feisty one, Solo."

Han raised an eyebrow, casually fingering his holstered blaster.

"I dunno, Alo, I don't like her as much as everyone thinks. She's kind of a pain, anyway. Why don't you keep her?"

Nadeem laughed and tightened his grip around Leia, aiming the blaster instead at Han, who had had begun to slide his own weapon from his belt.

"You're an arrogant fool, Solo. No wonder Jabba is so angry with you."

Han cast a fleeting glance at Leia.

"Why don't you let her go?"

Nadeem shook the weapon.

"Drop it!"

Han withdrew his blaster fully as he shrugged.

"Come on, Alo, I'm sure we can work something out--"

"Put it down, Solo!"

Alo forced Leia to step back with him as Han advanced.

"You're not gonna shoot me," he dared, his words almost inaudible over a sudden clap of thunder.

Nadeem squeezed the trigger with a sneer crossing his badly scarred face.

"Try me."

Han raised his blaster and aimed it at the bounty hunter. As he did, Nadeem fired a shot aimed squarely for his head. Han tried to dodge it, but the bolt curved narrowly past him and exploded against a stall, shattering it into splinters. He and Nadeem both faltered for a moment at the bolt's strange movement, something that defied any laws that either of them knew, but Leia took the opportunity to elbow Nadeem as hard as she could in his side. He doubled over in pain and she twisted out of his grip. She kicked the bounty hunter in his head, knocking him into a kiosk several feet behind them. Han reached for her then, hoping to grab her and flee, but Nadeem groaned as he rolled over, recovered, and began firing.

"Get to the _Falcon_!" Han screamed as he shot Nadeem in the leg. The other man cried out and fired at Leia, who had taken a backwards step in the direction of the hangar bay. Han saw the move and dove towards Leia, knocking her out of the path of the shot and taking the bolt in his torso instead.

Han screamed in pain as he fell hard against the ground, dropping his blaster. Leia scrambled to his side quickly, seizing the weapon and taking aim at Alo as she reached him. She fired three fast shots, two of which hit the approaching bounty hunter squarely in the chest. Nadeem collapsed immediately, motionless.

As the bounty hunter fell to the ground, dead, Mace Windu ducked back behind a vendor stall, back into the shadows where he had been so well concealed throughout the battle.

Leia felt herself exhale, then bent over Han, who was struggling to sit up against the pain of his blaster burn. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He groaned.

"Are you all right?" She breathed, pushing up the fabric of his tunic and shirt so she could get a better look at the wound. Han inhaled sharply at her touch, the expansion of his waist with breath causing him deeper pain. He attempted a grin.

"Never better, Princess," he said through gritted teeth.

A tight-lipped smile crossed her face. This was one of those incredibly rare times when she appreciated his ability to lighten dire situations with his sarcastic humor. She surveyed the wound carefully. It was deep, but thankfully not deep enough to hit any organs. He was most in danger of blood loss, which she could halt easily enough if they could make it to the ship.

"Do you think you can make it to the _Falcon?"_

"Yeah," he managed as she moved to his other side and he placed an arm over her shoulders. "I'm fine."

The trek back to the ship was labored. Han fell to his knees in pain three separate times and Leia struggled to support his weight. But they made it back, panting, covered in mud, and soaking wet. She sealed the ship from the inside and helped him back to his cabin, then ran to grab the medkit.

"We need to get your shirt off," she murmed as she walked back into the cabin, searching the medkit for the bacta treatment.

If he hadn't been in such blinding pain and if they hadn't just suffered through the most intense hours of their relationship, Han might have made a lascivious comment to see if he could get a blush out of her. Instead, he grunted and struggled to help her remove his tunic. The process was painful, and Leia opted for ripping the thinner material of his shirt after they got his tunic off instead of putting him through that pain again. She said nothing as she carefully dressed his wound, spreading on the same gel she'd found that he used on her three years ago and then gently bandaging the area with gauze strips. Her touch was delicate and caring, but she refused to glance at him while she worked.

Finally, Leia finished and withdrew a syringe from the kit. She measured out the perfect amount of a clear painkiller, then quickly injected him in his arm. The medicine went to work immediately, and his breathing became less and less labored until he was feeling no pain at all. He moved to sit up and look at her but she placed a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

"Rest."

"But the ship," he protested.

"I can pilot," she said, finally looking at him.

He agreed with a sigh and a reluctant nod and she stood up to give him some time. Han caught her hand as she brushed past him.

"Leia."

She shut her eyes and shook her head.

"Leia," he said again, squeezing her fingers gently.

"No." It was barely a whisper.

"What?"

Leia opened her eyes again but looked out the door into the main hold of the ship. Han could still see the tears even though she had averted her gaze.

"We can't."

Han grit his teeth in frustration against her vague answers. He knew exactly what she was saying, but he didn't want to hear it.

"Because I'm leaving." It wasn't a question.

Leia nodded and bit her lip, turning her head even further away from him.

"Would things change if I stayed?"

She smiled bitterly, sarcastically.

"Would you stay, Han?"

Han didn't know how to answer that question, but then he knew that she didn't want one. She already knew what he would say. They fell into silence, and he rued that silence all over again. There was so much unspoken, so much between them, and it was as though the words had already been said.

Finally, Leia sighed, though she still refused to look at him.

"Rest."

Han nodded and let go of her hand, but she didn't immediately move.

"Leia," he whispered.

"Don't," she replied, finally tilting her chin to meet his gaze. He gave her a small half-grin, fighting back the sudden lump in his throat.

"I just wanted to say thanks, Your Highnessness."

"For what?"

"For saving my life."

She nodded softly.

"Anytime, Captain."

She dimmed the lights and let the door close behind her, leaving Han alone to wonder if she knew exactly how many times she had saved his life.

Leia wondered if he knew how many times he had saved hers.


	16. Part IV

_Luke sat down beside Han and put a hand on the other man's shoulder. Han looked up, surprised, as if he had suddenly realized that Luke was there with him. They sat there quietly, brothers from the day they met, now bonded together in mutual concern for the woman who had saved them both. Then Luke took a deep breath and asked his only question, prepared for the answer that he dreaded most of all._

"_Han, what happened?"_

_Han stared ahead for a moment, at everything and nothing all at once, before finally bringing his distraught eyes to meet Luke's. He gave a shuddering sigh, and then answered his friend, his brother, almost inaudibly._

"_I think it's the baby, Luke."_


	17. Old Habits

Y'all, I'm so sorry that this update took so long! I didn't mean to leave you on such a cliffhanger, but as a peace offering here is an extra long post. Thanks for your patience!

--

Chapter Thirteen: Old Habits

"_I'm not calling for a second chance; I'm screaming at the top of my voice; Give me reason; But don't give me choice; 'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again..."_

James Blunt, "Same Mistake"

--

Two-Onebee was waiting with an impatient Chewbacca and a concerned Luke in the hangar bay as Leia gracefully landed the _Falcon _back on Hoth. She had commed ahead to inform Echo Base of Han's injury, and though he was stable and feeling much better, they both knew it was better for him to have it treated by a doctor. Leia had never been so grateful to see an overprotective Wookiee in her life. Chewie boarded the ship the instant the ramp was lowered and made his way to the cabin where Han was sleeping with barely a grunt in Leia's direction. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as she left the _Falcon, _relieved of her duty of finding the right words to say to Han next.

Luke was waiting for her at the bottom of the exit ramp, a small smile dancing across his face.

"Did you finally shoot him? I think Wedge owes me some money."

She couldn't help but smile and shake her head as she embraced her dear friend.

"No, but I thought about it."

Luke studied her for a moment with inquisitive blue eyes and she got the uneasy feeling that he was inside her thoughts.

"Something bad happened," he said.

Leia sighed and they began to walk towards her quarters.

"Yes. I just can't talk about it yet."

"Dinner?"

"Perhaps."

Luke furrowed his brow.

"We can take it in the med bay with Han."

"No," she said quietly. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

He paused for a moment but decided not to comment.

"I have to go out on surveillance soon, but I can come find you when I get back."

She nodded in acceptance but said nothing.

"How did the mission go?"

"Accomplished. Actually, that was the only thing that went right."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them as they reached her door, Luke still searching her for answers. Finally, he put a reassuring hand on her arm.

"Leia, you can tell me."

Tears came to her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last three days, but again she refused to let them fall. Instead, she gathered Luke into a firm embrace.

"I will soon, I promise. You're a dear, dear friend, Luke."

He smiled and left her then with a promise to find her when he reported back in. Sighing, Leia entered her quarters and checked the datapad lying on her bed. She shut it off again several moments later with a scowl at the sheer number of unchecked messages and tossed it onto her bedside table with a mental promise to answer them later. Almost violently, she tore off her still-muddy rain clothes and left them unceremoniously in a heap on the floor, opting for a long, hot water shower instead of mentally taxing work. Leia emerged from the sanctuary of her 'fresher an hour later to the persistent chiming of her private comlink. Donning her nerf-hide slippers, which proved to be welcome protection against the frozen floors, she crossed the small room and answered the call.

"Princess," came Rieekan's voice, "Your father is on the comm from Sullust. Can I patch you through?"

"Please, go ahead, Carlist."

There was a click and a flood of warm relief washed over her tired body as she heard the welcome velvet tones of Bail.

"Lelila. Are you all right?"

"Yes, Father, I'm fine. The mission went well, but we were confronted and--"

"I know. Carlist told me that Captain Solo was shot."

"He was trying to protect me."

"Yes, I know that, too." Bail's voice betrayed the hint of a smile. "Carlist also said that Han is already out on surveillance with Commander Skywalker."

She paused.

"Oh. I suppose he's fine, then."

"Yes, I suppose he is."

Bail waited for a moment for Leia to say something, but she didn't so instead he continued.

"Preparations are going well. Gamma Base is ready should Echo need to be evacuated."

"That's good to hear," she said, wearily. "I have a feeling that we won't be here much longer."

"Leia, are you sure you're fine?"

"I am, I promise. Just tired."

"Well rest up. See you soon, Lelila. I love you."

"I love you, Father."

The comm ended with a click and Leia sank down on her bed, pulling the thick blankets around her robed body. Her intention was to lie there for just a moment, but she awoke four hours later and two hours late for her shift, swearing loudly when she realized the time. Quickly, she braided her hair in a simple, low-maintenance style around her head and donned her Alliance-issued snowsuit and vest and made her way to the Command center, a destination that very soon proved to be a mistake.

Han entered the center an hour later, in from what he announced had been his last time offering the Alliance any sort of assistance. Her heart tightened painfully in her chest as she heard him tell Rieekan that he was leaving and she fought frantically against herself to find some final reason to convince him to stay. But she only managed to assume the role of standoffish ice princess, to which he replied by storming out of the center in a huff. His ire, however, stoked hers, and she melted quickly into haughty, accusatory child on the edge of a temper tantrum.

"I thought you had decided to stay," Leia asserted angrily, stupidly, though he hadn't once in the past few days given her any indication that he would. She felt foolish for saying it, as if she thought the Corellian womanizer before her might actually care enough about her to put everything else aside. Their fight did not rival that of the flight to Ord Mantell, but the sentiment was the same. He was stubborn and she was more so and such a shared flaw in character meant that he would leave her forever without either of them admitting their passionate, desperate need to be near the other.

Han stormed off again with his last final insult, leaving her standing alone and incredulous in the South Passage. She stood there for a moment, fully incapable of doing anything but stare, before movement finally returned to her body and she stalked away in the opposite direction to her quarters.

What she found there did nothing to help her mood. Someone, or something, with the very best of intentions, had turned on the small heating unit in the corner of her room after she had left. The heat emanating from the little cube had already begun to melt her ceiling and soften her walls. Her bed was soaking wet from the melting ice, and the datapad that she had thrown on the side table haphazardly looked to have shorted out completely. Frustrated, she glanced down at the chronometer on her wrist. If Han had gone out on surveillance with Luke, the younger man should have reported in by now, which meant he also should have come to find her for dinner at least half an hour ago. She found her comlink in one of her vest pockets and dialed Luke's code, which beeped but was not answered. Then, she dialed Han's code, but the call went straight to his messaging system and she knew that he had turned it off.

Livid, Leia hurled the comm unit into the wall, but instead of shattering into a hundred pieces with a satisfying crack, it only imbedded itself into the slowly melting walls of her room. Rolling her eyes, she walked across the room and retrieved the unit, thumbing it on once again.

"Mistress Leia," came the cheerful voice of Threepio as he answered her comm. "Artoo and I came to your quarters earlier and found them to be quite below the standard temperature for humans, so we turned on your heating unit. I hope you find the temperature to be satisfactory when you return."

"Ugh," Leia groaned. "That was you? Threepio, you melted my ceiling!"

She heard a series of beeps on the other end, which she decided was Artoo-speak for 'I told you so.'

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Princess, I only meant--"

"It's fine," she said quickly, interrupting him before the protocol droid got any further in his mind-numbing rambling. "Listen, I need you to find Captain Solo. He's turned off his communicator. Luke hasn't reported in yet and I'm worried about him. Comm me when you've spoken with him."

Leia ended the call rather violently as Threepio made his long-winded acknowledgement of her request and set herself to the task of salvaging what little she could from water damage. She packed a small bag with one of her white gowns, a pair of boots, her datapad that had been spared, the nerf doll that Han had given her two years ago, and a toothbrush, and set out to find her cabin on _Home One, _careful to take the long way into the hangar bay in hopes of avoiding Han_. _A night in her more lavish quarters aboard the powered-down Mon Calamari cruiser, no doubt, would be preferable to a night in a bed that would probably be a solid sheet of ice by the time she returned. She settled into her room and had just activated her datapad when her comm chimed gently, indicating Threepio's code.

"Mistress Leia," came the mechanical voice, "Master Luke never reported in and Captain Solo has gone out to look for him."

She felt the color drain from her face.

"He what?"

"He has gone outside base to search for Master Luke," the droid repeated.

"Oh, shavit," Leia hissed.

Abandoning her things, she sprinted off the cruiser and out into the hangar bay, reaching Rieekan, Chewie, and Artoo before Threepio even realized she had abandoned the call.

"Leia," Rieekan said calmly, bracing himself for an inevitable verbal onslaught. Leia gave him the most accusatory look she could muster, but he had seen it before and it had little effect.

"Carlist, how the hell could you let him go out there?"

"He was gone before I even heard he left. The deck officer tried to stop him."

"He'll die! They both will. We have to do something!"

Rieekan shook his head apologetically.

"It's too cold for the speeders and the tauntauns won't survive long enough to send out a search party. There's nothing we can do until sunrise."

She glanced towards the open shield doors and out into the frozen wastelands of the planet, a darkening abyss in the rapid nightfall.

"We need to keep the doors open in case they make it back." Even as she said it, she knew it was a futile hope. If Han and Luke were going to survive the night, they wouldn't do it by trying to make it back to base.

"I'll send out the scanners. And we can keep the doors open until 2100. Any later than that and we risk a rapid drop in temperature in the base."

Leia looked at him helplessly and in that moment Rieekan saw her not as the strong young woman that she had been for so long but as the little girl he had known on Alderaan. That little girl hadn't existed since Breha's death over sixteen years ago. Little Lelila matured very quickly after her adopted mother died, and it broke Rieekan's heart to see her lose her innocence at such a young age. The losses she had suffered in her twenty-two years had been more than most would experience in a hundred lifetimes, but even after Alderaan she never let those losses show. In that moment, suddenly, the despair cracked through her carefully constructed durasteel walls. And in that moment, Rieekan saw that the loss of Luke Skywalker, and even more the loss of Han Solo, would break her.

He didn't know that Leia could be broken.

Defeated, she cast a glance at Chewie. The Wookiee growled, assuring the princess that he would be out there with Han if he'd had any idea the brash captain was going to look for Luke.

"Well," Leia sighed, finally, "what next?"

Rieekan patted her arm in a sympathetic gesture that filled her with fear.

"We wait."

--

Of all the sleepless nights Leia Organa had spent on the _Falcon, _this was the worst. She and Chewie were a silent and mournful pair, perhaps each the other's worst companion because neither of them could offer any comfort. The Wookiee was particularly upset. He had been angry that Han was wounded on Ord Mantell without him there, and the fact that he could do nothing to help his old friend now was an additional blow. He spent much of the night attempting to occupy himself with repairs, letting a melancholy wail echo off the walls of the ship every now and then. Chewie's guttural moans reverberated in her soul, tearing at what little sanity she had left, reminding her that the truest friends she'd ever had might never be found.

She had always been impatient, always hated waiting, but the helpless feeling that was pervading her body brought back horrible, stinging memories of Tarkin giving the order to fire on Alderaan, awful memories that would never truly heal. Chewie had offered to let her do a bit of welding on the ship after she threw her surviving datapad against the wall at 0305 and finally got her satisfying shatter. She took the welding assignment only because she was desperate for something else to think about, something other than her dear Luke dying or Han freezing to death without her ever having the courage to tell him the truth, but she was so adept and finished so quickly that at 0350 the only thing left for to do was sit there and wait.

Leia dropped unceremoniously, exhaustedly, into Han's seat in the cockpit and stared out the transparisteel to the cursed shield doors, cold, unmoving, and mocking her with their motionlessness. She scowled as her final exchange with the _Falcon's _captain played through her mind for the thousandth time that long, lonely night. That fight in the south passage had nothing to do with the things they said and everything to do with the things they had chosen not to say. Leia revisited the shouting match again and again, each time trying to imagine herself saying the things she couldn't, each time even her mind prevented her from doing so. She curled her knees into her chest and rested her head on her kneecaps, hoping that she could block everything else in her little cocoon. And then suddenly, surprisingly, Leia's eyes snapped open with the most obvious realization of her life. She was scared to love him. And she found that ridiculous. She had never been one to live her life in fear. Why had she spent the last three years being afraid of Han Solo?

She was startled awake two hours later by the roar of a Wookiee, surprised to find herself in what had become her bed on the _Falcon _for the past three years, carried there by that same Wookiee who had found her curled in a little ball, asleep in Han's chair. Her heart felt as though it was going to beat out of her chest as she made her way to find Chewie, unsure if his outburst was one of joy or of sorrow. She got her answer, though, as she entered the galley and the walking carpet scooped her into a hug so fierce she was certain at least two of her ribs had cracked. They made their way off the ship and were joined by Threepio and Artoo, the four of them fighting through a gaggle of thrilled Rebels anxious for a glance at the two heros that had, once again, beaten all the odds.

Luke was unconscious and her stomach lurched when she saw the deep gashes across his face, but she heard Two-Onebee say that he only needed a few hours in the bacta tank as he was whisked away on the repulsor-stretcher, relieving her tension ever so slightly. Han climbed out of the ship easily and was greeted with a hug from Chewie similar to the one Leia had just received. He made his way through a chorus of back-slaps, handshakes, and well wishes, separating himself with the claim that all he wanted was a hot shower and a shot of Whyren's Reserve, and then found himself standing in front of the ramp to the _Falcon, _its entrance blocked by one one petite princess that couldn't seem to decide which emotion she wanted to display on her face. He saw relief, anger, confusion, gratitude, desire, hurt, worry, and elation almost all at once before she settled on a nondescript and very political sabacc face. They regarded one another for a moment, hearts still burning with that unspoken love and that unflinching anger from the days before, unsure of what to do next.

Finally, Leia crossed the gap in a gesture that surprised them both. She wrapped her arms around his waist in a firm hug and whispered the only truth she could manage into his chest.

"I'm glad you're safe."

Han smirked as she let him go.

"Missed me, huh?"

Her jaw set firmly in frustration and she narrowed her eyes. He didn't know what made him say it. He only knew that somewhere in the night he realized just how much it was going to hurt to leave her and he had to say his goodbyes in the only way he knew how.

The fighting didn't make it any easier, but it was the reflexive reaction.

"So we're here," Leia said, coldly. She didn't want an answer, because she already knew. He was back to flinging insults and innuendo and she was back to pretending she didn't care about him. It was as if their relationship hadn't changed at all in the past three years.

"Yes," he replied simply. She pursed her lips and gave a curt nod, then spun quickly on one heel and walked away from him.

"Hey, Princess," Han called. Leia paused, but she did not turn around.

"'Safe' is a relative term."

--

Han didn't know why he said it.

They had chosen not to speak after she'd left him in the hangar bay, after he tried for the very last time to make her see why he had to leave. He found her in the med bay an hour later keeping a silent vigil over Luke in the bacta tank just as Han had done in the frozen makeshift shelter the night before. He stood near her but couldn't bring himself to stand next to her, to say anything to her, to offer her any sort of assurance that he might come back to her. So instead they didn't speak again until Luke was awake and out of the tank. And when he opened his mouth, the words that came out did nothing to fix things between them.

"Well, Your Worship, looks like you managed to keep me around a little longer."

She returned his smirk with flawless accuracy.

"I had nothing to do with it. General Rieekan thinks it's dangerous for any ships to leave the field until we've activated the shield generator."

"That's a good story. I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight."

And just like that, he started another fight. He tossed a few lewd comments her way and she did her very best to come up with a stinging insult. "Nerfherder" had been a new one. He'd wanted to laugh when she called him "stuck-up" because it was a phrase he's used to describe her more than once in the past three years. But then she gave him the equivalent of a sucker punch to the gonads and kissed Luke squarely, if awkwardly, on his lips and sauntered out of the room, smug in her knowledge that she'd won that particular battle. It took him a moment to recover, and he was really only jolted to the present at the sound of an alarm and a summons to Command Center.

To his credit, and to Leia's credit as well, they had become adept at putting aside whatever differences they had for the sake of the Alliance. As soon as Threepio suggested that the code coming in over the system could be Imperial, he threw on his parka and went out with Chewie and she slipped on the headset. Han marveled for a moment at how difficult it was to have her voice whispering in his ear. It was like a dance, a Corellian waltz, or something closer, sexier, like a sensual tango he'd seen once on Tatooine. They pushed away, jumped back, retreated, only to press their bodies together again, melting into the other, becoming one. Her voice, pinched and deft though it was, resonated within him, settled within him, danced against his ears.

He ached for her.

When the evacuation alarms later sounded and the walls began to shake at the explosions from the battle raging outside, he told himself he was only going to see her to her transport. He knew Leia and her endearing and infuriating tendency to be the last one off base. It was how he'd first gotten to know her three years ago. It was one of the many things he loved about her. And he loved her too much to leave her to be buried under a collapsed and frozen base, or worse, captured and tortured all over again. He wasn't expecting to have the good fortune to be the one to take her to Sullust. But he also wasn't expecting to have the terrible fortune of a broken hyperdrive. He got lucky with the asteroid belt. If they had been in any other system, if they had chosen a planet with less meteor activity, the _Falcon _and its crew would have been in range of the _Executor's _tractor beams in no time, pulled into an almost certain death.

Even in the relative security of the crater, even given the time to make repairs to the hyperdrive, Han didn't really believe that they were going to make it past the clutches of the Empire. He struggled with his thoughts as fiddled with the reverse alternators and felt the knot in the pit of his stomach tighten with every muted explosion he heard at the surface of the asteroid. He didn't regret not leaving earlier and he didn't regret getting Leia off base, but he did regret putting her in such a situation. He thought of Bail and the trust the older man had placed in him. He felt as though he'd let them all down.

Han's first thought as he found Leia welding the valves he had assigned her was to apologize for dragging her to her almost certain death. His second thought as he moved to help her turn the valve was how beautiful she looked when she was frustrated.

The thought on which he acted, however, was that he would never get this chance with her again.

--

If someone had told Leia Organa four years ago that she would one day fall in love with Han Solo, she would have signed an executive order to have them committed. But that would have been before she'd had her mind raped by a Sith Lord, before her body had nearly been broken at the hands of sadistic men serving an Emperor even more evil, before she'd been responsible for destroying billions of innocent lives. She was a completely different person than the little girl she'd been the day before she was captured by Darth Vader, and the woman she was now was the kind of woman that saw past scruffy exteriors and checkered pasts and dilapidated ships. The woman she was now could fall in love with scoundrels without a second thought.

She had imagined many times how it might feel to kiss Han. It was one of the few immature delights she thought a young woman of twenty-two with no worries in the galaxy might be allowed. She had wanted to kiss him in the snow on Hoth and in the rain on Ord Mantell and even on the beach on Oertzen VI. She remembered the ancient, knobby, and twisted tree that grew through the wide balcony off of her bedroom on Alderaan and had even imagined that her home had never been destroyed and she could kiss him in the shade that grew under those fat green leaves. In all her daydreams, their kisses had been soft and warm and sweet, like the gentle moments she had seen her parents share in her fuzzy memories.

Leia never thought that a kiss from Han would inspire the feelings that it did.

When he approached her, she had still been angry, so angry with him for all that had transpired since their voyage to Ord Mantell. So she rebuffed him, fought back, pleaded with him to stop touching her, because his touch only tortured her further. He rubbed her hand, his fingers igniting every nerve ending within her body. He accused her of trembling and she was, she was trembling because she knew exactly what was going to happen between them and everything inside of her was screaming, crying out, begging for them to meet.

And then they did.

Leia felt herself come alive as Han's mouth met hers, his lips warm and soft. The spark between them in that instant was blinding, dizzying, intoxicating. She had never in her wildest fantasies imagined that pleasure such as this existed. His wet tongue danced against her bottom lip, teasing her with agonizingly slow strokes, and she opened her mouth ever so slightly to let him in. He tasted as she imagined snow might taste, sweet and cool and refreshing despite the heat of his mouth and lips and tongue. As if they had a mind of their own, her hands snaked up and around his neck, her fingers tangling themselves in his soft mop of brown hair, drawing him in closer to her. There was a fire between them, a passion that had never before existed in the galaxy. She wanted to stay locked against him forever.

And then suddenly she was cold. Never had a droid been in possession of such impeccably awful timing. They broke apart, startled at the interruption, and she felt the color rise to her cheeks as Han turned to greet the offending Threepio. She chose the moment to sneak away from them, for she did not know what to do next. What could she say to him now? They had been dancing around what they both knew for three years and then had come close to ending their relationship on the sourest of notes and were still almost certainly going to fall back into the hands of the Empire when they finally chose to leave the crater. And even if they didn't, Han was still leaving, had still made it clear that he had chosen his life of carefree space pirating over a pursuit of justice. She was in love with a man that couldn't be in her life much longer. So instead of addressing the moment with Han, she sought the solace of the dark cockpit and stared into a wide black abyss that would never be big enough to contain all of the questions in her mind and her heart.

--

"Thirty-six days," Han sighed, finally. "That's the fastest we can get there without causing any more damage to the ship."

Leia was still watching the space where the last Star Destroyer had just disappeared into lightspeed, halfway expecting it to return. She sighed, leaning back into her seat, and Han turned the ship around, setting the coordinates for what was shaping to be a lengthy journey to Bespin, a destination in which neither of them had much confidence.

"Do you think we're okay on supplies?"

Han nodded, turning his chair around to face her.

"We should be. Chewie and I were prepared for a long trip to Tatooine. We might have to survive on rations towards the end, but I think we can manage."

She smiled a little.

"I think so."

"The Anoat system," he continued, "is pretty remote. I don't think we'll have to worry about much Imperial activity, especially since they think we went the other direction. Scavengers are a possibility, but I think we're traveling at a fast enough speed that we don't look like an abandoned ship."

"You make it sound like we're home free until Bespin."

Han shook his head and chuckled.

"If only it were that easy."

"If only," Leia agreed.

They fell silent as they locked eyes, alone in the dim light of the cockpit except for a still-deactivated Threepio. Han brought his hands to rest on Leia's knees, and to his surprise, she covered them with her own. He intertwined his fingers with hers and gave her a little tug. She leaned forward and he did the same until their foreheads were touching, hazel eyes still holding steady the gaze of brown.

"It's not just going to be that easy," Leia warned, her voice a husky whisper.

"I know," Han replied with the half-smile that would make her knees wobble if she hadn't been sitting down.

"It can't be that easy," she insisted, drinking in his breath, warm against her lips.

"I know," he said again before he closed the small gap between their mouths in an electric kiss that was gentler than the one they shared earlier but was no less passionate. This time, it was Leia's tongue that was the soft explorer, which Han welcomed freely. And this time, it was a kiss that allowed to end on its own, with no interruptions from droids or bounty hunters or Star Destroyers.

Leia grinned as they broke apart, a truer smile than he'd seen in a long time, and he felt his own smile spread across his face.

"Scoundrel."

Han gave her an innocent look as she stood up.

"Who, me?"

Leia shook her head and reactivated Threepio.

"I've spent the past two nights wide awake and worrying about you, so I'm going to sleep now, hopefully for a very long time."

"Yes, Your Worship."

"Goodnight, Flyboy," she called as she breezed out of the cockpit.

Han shook his head and turned to study the stars.

"Goodnight, Princess," he whispered.


	18. Day Two

Chapter Fourteen: Day Two

"_Can you tell me how we got into this situation; I can't seem to get you off my mind; All these ups and downs; They trip up our good intentions; Nobody said this was an easy ride; After all; We're only human; Always fighting what we're feeling..."_

Jon McLaughlin, "Human"

--

The chrono on her wrist told her that she'd slept for fifteen hours, a glorious, deep sleep, uninterrupted by alarms or emergencies or bad dreams. Never in her life, save for perhaps the time she had been ill and in a medical coma, had she slept for so well or so long. She was refreshed, happy even. 0900, the chrono told her, though she didn't know on exactly what time she was operating. The little clock automatically adjusted to the time of whatever system she was visiting and would set itself to Galactic Standard when she was in space, but she had fallen hard on it during the escape from Echo Base and cracked it. She knew the _Falcon's _internal chrono also self-adjusted, so she made a note to compare the times, assuming the ship's device actually worked.

As she moved to climb out of the bunk, she realized that her chrono wasn't the only thing damaged when Han fell on her to protect her from the caving ceiling. She tenderly placed a hand on her lower ribs, grimacing at the touch.

"Ugh," she said to no one at all. "I hope they're not cracked."

In her hurry to leave the ship after Ord Mantell, she'd left her extra white shimmersilk robe folded in the corner of her cabin, so she gingerly wrapped it around the camisole and thermals she slept in, the garments that she had been wearing beneath her snowsuit. Leia padded out into the ship, finding quickly that she was the only sentient being not snoozing away. See-Threepio was at the helm, talking with the ship's computers in a language that she couldn't understand, so she slipped quietly out of the cockpit before he realized she was there, careful to avoid getting sucked into a conversation with the droid. She made herself a pot of kaffe and carefully picked up the pieces of the datapad that she had smashed against the wall of the galley two nights ago. Leia knew that Han had a few datapads lying around, but she didn't find any in the galley, so she decided to ask him if she could borrow one when he woke. Then she found the medkit and threw back a few oral analgesics with a sip of kaffe, hoping silently that they kicked in soon.

Sitting down at the dejarik table, Leia realized with a sarcastic smile that she had no responsibilities and nowhere to be for a little over a month; she was, in effect, on vacation. She decided that she would have preferred to relax on a tropical planet somewhere than on a half-working ship in the middle of the Anoat system, a planet like Neva or the shore country of Naboo, where so many of her friends on Alderaan used to spend the summer months. Of course, the Organa family didn't know the meaning of the word vacation in any language. As a little girl, her vacations with Bail consisted of diplomatic missions or peace summits. Her father always had an agenda, a meeting to attend, and even as a young child, Leia had insisted she accompany him on his appointments. They never spent summers at the beach, settling instead for rare nights of walking along the shore behind the palace. More often than not, Leia spent her time away from school on Coruscant with Bail, soaking in the political system of the Republic and trying very hard to avoid ever meeting the Emperor.

Leia felt a pang of sadness as she thought of her father. Bail would be worried when she didn't arrive at Sullust with the rest of the fleet. The Alliance might even assume her dead. She and Bail didn't talk much of the two years he spent on Naboo and he assumed she had been killed by Vader, but she knew that the loss of his planet, coupled with the loss of his daughter, had not been easy for him. Bail was a strong man, it had been his example that Leia followed, but she wondered if he could handle the thought that his daughter had been killed once again.

At the sound of heavy footfalls, she lifted her eyes from the dejarik table and watched as Chewie entered the galley and fixed himself his own oversized mug of kaffe. The big Wookiee looked at her with what she thought was a smile and growled something that she didn't understand.

"Is this something that I want Threepio to translate?"

Chewie nodded and she stood, walking with him to the cockpit.

"Threepio, can you interpret?"

"Oh, of course, Mistress Leia," Threepio said, cheerily, as Leia sat down behind the pilot's chair and Chewie took his regular seat. "I am, after all, fluent in over six--"

Chewie growled a warning and the droid, terrified, stopped himself immediately. She hid a smile behind a sip of kaffe and Chewie repeated what he had said to her just moments before.

"Princess, Chewbacca says that he is glad that you are on this journey with us and that Captain Solo has mentioned what a capable pilot you are."

"Oh. Well, thank you, Chewie."

The Wookiee growled again, and again Threepio translated.

"Chewbacca says, 'You are welcome, Cub.' He also says that he is happy you and Captain Solo have come to an understanding in your--" Threepio paused and looked from Leia to Chewie and back, confused. "Your...relationship?"

The color rushed to Leia's cheeks, hot with embarrassment.

"Chewie, I don't think--"

"Don't think what?"

Leia looked up, startled, as Han walked in with his own mug of kaffe, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing other than a wide white bandage over the blaster burn on his side. If she was flushed after Chewie's comment, she was positively crimson at the sight of Han's firm, shirtless body and soft, grinning lips that she had kissed not so long ago.

"Uh, nothing," she stuttered. Chewie gave a little guffaw as Han slipped past them and motioned for Threepio to get out of his chair.

"You can go recharge now if you want, Goldenrod."

"Oh, thank you, Captain Solo. My circuits really were getting tired and this is a welcome break."

"Yeah, yeah," said Han, waving the droid out of the cockpit. He sat down in his chair and studied the instrument panel for a moment. "Looks like she's holding steady, Chewie. We might need to take a look at the rear boosters today, and see if we can get the shield back to full power in case we come under another attack."

Chewie growled an affirmative that Leia understood, but she resolved anyway to learn conversational Shriiwook in the next thirty-five days.

"Your Worship, I need you to monitor the navicomputer and scanners for glitches. I did some rewiring yesterday and I want to make sure I didn't cross anything."

She found herself startled by this comment. If she had been expecting any sort of discussion over their kiss, it wouldn't come now. So instead, Leia smirked at him.

"Knowing you, that's likely."

Han rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"Oh," she added, "I need a datapad. Have you got an extra I can borrow? And some clothes?"

"Yeah. I'll look through later this afternoon."

"Great."

"Okay then," Han said as he stood up, casting a sideways glance at Leia, "Chewie, let's get started on the rear boosters."

--

Leia studied the navicomputer and scanners until her eyes began to cross, but she was glad to have something to do. Chewbacca had brought her a datapad before he and Han went to work on the rear boosters and she had drafted a document, recording every movement the computer and scanners made with an accuracy that could only come from spending three years as a soldier instead of a senator. She was watching the instrument panel so intently, in fact, that she didn't notice Han had slipped into the cockpit eight hours later until he was handing her a plate of food.

"Nerf steak sandwich," he clarified as she took the welcome meal from his hands. "How's it looking?"

"The navicomputer recalculates itself every half hour, but it always sets back on the same course. And the scanners haven't picked up anything."

Han frowned slightly.

"Well, that's normal for the computer. It recalculates to make sure it's finding the best route. Great for fuel efficiency, but not so great if you're trying to lose someone."

"And the scanners?"

"They're broken. They should have at least picked up space debris."

Leia pressed her lips together and nodded.

"I found some clothes for you," he added after a moment. "They're in your room."

"Thanks," she said, swallowing a bite of sandwich. She held it up so he could see. "Delicious."

"Chewie made it. He's a good cook, only I have to make sure he doesn't serve the nerf still moving."

Leia smiled.

"I like it still moving. Bleeding, anyway. It was a delicacy on Alderaan."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They were silent for a moment as Leia gracefully polished off the last of her sandwich, Han watching her closely. She was still wearing dressed in the robe she'd had on earlier that day and her hair was thrown over her left shoulder in a casual, loose braid. Han was pleasantly surprised to see she looked as though she was at home on his ship. He couldn't help but smile.

Leia gave him a quizzical look.

"What is it?"

"I've never seen you eat so much," he teased.

She rolled her eyes and placed her empty plate on the instrument panel, but the twisting movement made her grimace. Han was kneeling next to her in a flash, a look of concern across his features.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Leia assured, shaking her head. "I'm just sore from falling."

"Let me see," his hands moving over the smooth silk of her robe, feeling the muscles of her back beneath the thin fabric.

"I'm fine, really," she said, trying to shrug him off.

"Let me see," he repeated gently, casually hooking a finger around her collar and pulling the material back until he'd exposed the soft skin of her right shoulder.

"Han, please," Leia breathed, shrinking away from him. She looked up at him with pleading brown eyes that startled him to his very core. He froze immediately.

"Do you think I'm going to hurt you?" Han said it quietly, but he winced at how accusatory the words sounded in his ears. She shook her head once, looking away again.

"No, it's not that. I'm fine, really. I just need more pain pills."

He frowned.

"You could have cracked a rib. I fell on you pretty hard."

"Hmm," was her only reply.

"At least let me feel," he insisted. "Let me make sure nothing's broken."

Leia looked at him once again, struck by the gentle look that had settled on Han's features. He wasn't going to hurt her, he wasn't going to undress her. He just wanted to make sure she was fine. Nodding, she stood up and let the robe fall off her shoulders, fighting back how exposed she felt standing before him in a tight camisole. His touch was delicate and his hands, though calloused, were smooth against her skin. He pressed gently into her back, moving down her ribcage until he found the tender area at the base of her back next to her spine.

"That's it," she said through gritted teeth.

"Does it hurt if I press harder?"

Leia paused for a moment as the pressure on her ribs increased. "No."

"Okay," Han murmured, tracing his fingers from the small of the back to her hips, "I don't think it's cracked."

His fingers dallied over her left hip, but suddenly his hand froze and Leia inhaled sharply.

"Leia, what--"

"Don't," she said firmly even as he leaned in to study the tiny bump beneath her skin.

"What is that? Is that a chip?"

She wrenched herself away from his touch and pulled her robe back over her shoulders, closing it tightly. Her eyes met his, liquid brown pools that shocked him with the depths of their anguish.

"It's nothing," she said, firmly.

"It's a prisoner's chip," he breathed, "isn't it?"

Leia suddenly found the deck plates very interesting, but she still gave a curt nod.

"From the Death Star?"

Again, she nodded.

"Why didn't you have it removed?"

"That's not important."

Han studied her with a set jaw for a moment. She had her arms folded around her body, making herself seem smaller than she already was. The anguished memories of her captivity on the Death Star stabbed at her body just as the needles and knives had three short years ago. He could almost feel her pain, her loneliness. Overcome with anything but the need to take it all away, he stepped forward, encircling her in his arms. Leia immediately stiffened, then jerked away from his embrace.

"What are you doing?" The sadness in her beautiful brown eyes had disappeared, frozen over once again, and it cut him to the core.

"Leia, I'm not--"

"Please, Han," she interrupted. "Please don't."

He retreated a step, his hazel eyes narrowing, fixing on her.

"Don't what? Don't touch you?"

"Just...don't." She finally dragged her gaze to meet his. "Please."

A look of simmering anger crossed his face and his hazel eyes darkened to a dangerous shade of green, but he choked down the words he wanted desperately to scream. Instead, he settled for a stiff nod.

"Fine." His response was cold, a knife to Leia's stomach. She pressed her lips together and dropped her gaze once again.

"Fine." It was a resigned sigh before it was a word that died on her tongue. They stood together in for a moment in a silent standoff, but finally she conceded, arms still crossed, and pushed her way past him and out of the cockpit. Han was frozen, listening intently as she slunk down the corridor, and moved only after he heard her cabin door slide shut.

It would be three days before he saw Leia again, and in those moments she was absent Han could only marvel at her ability to disappear on such a tiny ship. He wondered how the Imperials had been able to find her in the first place.

--

The fur of the little nerf doll was soft and gray and it had been worn away at the ears. When she was younger, Leia would run the floppy ears of her brown doll between her fingers as she went to sleep. She did it because she saw Breha patting the ears of a nerf calf when the Organas had visited an Alderaani pasture when Leia was four. Breha told little Lelila that a nerf calf's ears were the softest things she'd ever touched, and after her death, Leia recalled the memory often. The repetitive motion comforted the little girl and eased her mind during the difficult and dark nights when she missed her mother most of all. The tiny brown doll that she'd named Sellen had its ears replaced at least three times by the palace seamstress when Leia wore through them with her habit, and every time her doll went into 'surgery' the little girl had kept careful vigilance over the operation. Her habit, it appeared, had carried on even with her new doll, as its ears were thin and beginning to fray at the seams.

Bail Organa smiled sadly and hugged the gray nerf, a gift to his daughter from a cynical smuggler, a gift from a man that wanted to help her begin to rebuild all she had lost. Leia had packed a little bag and placed it her quarters on _Home One _before the evacuation on Hoth, perhaps in a moment of brilliant foresight, but she hadn't made it to Sullust with the cruiser. In fact, she hadn't made it to Sullust at all. Rieekan had found him immediately after the cruiser dropped out of hyperspace, delivering the news in person that Leia didn't make it to her transport, though he had received a comm from Captain Solo saying that he would get her off base on the _Falcon. _Bail knew the battered Corellian freighter was not always mechanically sound, but he still held hope that the ship would arrive at Gamma Base over the next few days.

Six days after the evacuation of Echo Base, however, the _Millennium Falcon _and its passengers was still missing in action and Bail had all but given up hope that Leia survived the battle. The thought was almost debilitating. In times of war and in times of peace, Bail had been confronted with realities that tore at his soul, but none threatened to undo him like the reality that his only daughter was lost to him again. Without really thinking, he had taken a shuttle up to the cloaked Mon Calamari cruiser rotating in orbit with the three moons over Sullust. Rieekan had told him where Leia's quarters were and given him an override code to get into the room, and the sadness he felt over the discovery of her pack and the little nerf doll threatened to consume him. He had seen so much death in his years, he had lost a wife and a family and a planet, but there was no grief that compared to the grief that followed the loss of a child.

Clutching the doll, Bail sank into an oversized white chair that Leia had angled to face the oblong viewport so she could take in the reaches of space whenever she glanced up from her work. Leia had always loved the sky, especially the stars. As a baby, she had been fascinated by starlight. Instead of rocking her infant form, Bail would sit with her in front of a window and let her watch the sky until she drifted into the space of her dreams. He felt both pride and fear when he saw that his baby girl embodied her true last name of Skywalker even as an infant.

There was a quiet knock on the durasteel entrance to the cabin, then the door slid open lazily, on its own, as Bail looked up. His hand dropped instinctively to his blaster, but he relaxed as soon as he saw the intruder.

"Security clearance worked, I take it?"

"Yes," said Mace Windu as the door closed behind him. The old Jedi master walked over to the bed across from the chair Bail occupied and sat gingerly on the corner. "But you aren't easy to find."

Bail offered a wan smile.

"Good. That's how we want it." He paused, regarding the other man with resigned curiosity for a moment. "Leia didn't make it here."

Mace nodded. "I know."

"We think she's dead. Makes me wonder about prophecies and visions."

"She's not dead," the Jedi said, shortly, taken aback by an almost immediate affront on his beliefs from the usually level Bail Organa. "She's fine for now, and they're together. They have to be together for anything to move forward."

"Where are they? Did she go with him to pay off that crime lord?"

"No."

Bail frowned.

"Do you know where they are?"

"He's bringing her here. He wants to bring her here."

Though he was a politician and a diplomat and capable of hiding his frustration over vague certainties and half-answered, he was not adept at hiding his displeasure from a Jedi that could read his silent emotions. Bail considered for a moment keeping his mask of polished indifference, but Mace almost certainly was aware of how he felt, so instead he allowed himself to become frustrated with the other man.

"What do you mean _wants _to bring her here? What are you not telling me, Mace?"

"I sense," Mace said with a resigned sigh, "that something isn't right."

"Of course something isn't right. They aren't here yet. Have they been captured?"

The Jedi closed his eyes and was silent for a long moment, stretching as far as he could into the Force.

"No," he said finally.

"Well, what is it? Are they in danger?"

Mace opened his eyes and locked his gaze on Bail, the steel in his brown orbs sending a chill into the Viceroy's soul. The Jedi's face was firm, set, grim. It was a seriousness like none Bail had ever seen before. When he spoke, his voice was low and cold and a thick, dreadful foreboding settled in the room on the tail of his words.

"Not yet."


	19. Scars

Chapter Fifteen: Scars

"_Will you make a smooth amendment; Will you break your fall from grace; Into the arms of understanding; Looking for one safe place, yeah..."_

Marc Cohn, "One Safe Place"

--

She got his little notes, but he only knew she did because the tasks he had requested of her were always done by the time he woke. He didn't know when she did the work, and frankly he was a little too hurt to find out, but he never once heard her welding or organizing or scratching around the cargo hold. He only knew that she had all but disappeared on his ship and the only way to communicate with her was to give her things to do, little messages left near the kaffe machine with assignments for the day.

Today was the first day, however, that he heard her moving around with everyone else.

Han had asked that Leia weld together the two reserve engines he'd taken together the day before, a job that put her below the deckplates but far enough away from the main hold of the _Falcon _that she could slip in and out unnoticed if she so desired. It was a conscious move on his part, and he wondered briefly if she recognized and appreciated it. He and Chewie were in the main cargo hold, attempting to rewire the negative power coupling that had been destroyed while they were running from Vader. It wasn't an easy task. The coupling was carefully protected by durasteel plates that he couldn't cut without damaging vital wires. He would have just purchased a new one and saved himself the trouble had he been anywhere else in the galaxy, but drifting along in the middle of the nothingness of the Anoat system did not make for easy stops at repair stores. Instead, he had to force his hands into the tiny openings of the coupling, rewiring blindly and more than anything cutting his hands along sharp edges.

"Shavit!"

Han sliced his left hand for the fourth time in the last hour, and this time the gash was deeper and bloodier than any of the others, dripping crimson fluid onto the coupling, dropping onto the floor and running down his wrist. Livid, he delivered a sound right jab to the nearest wall, firmly bruising two of his knuckles in the process.

Chewie growled.

"Yeah?" Han shook his head and wiped the blood on a nearby towel. "Well, the wall got what it deserved."

The Wookiee's growl was a little louder this time.

"Shut up, fuzzball."

Chewie gave him an ominous look, but any further argument was immediately interrupted by a loud crashing noise from somewhere in the underbelly of the ship, followed by a louder swear in a female voice.

"Son of a bantha!"

Han was torn for a moment between rushing to help the petite princess and doubling over in laughter at such a foul outburst from that tiny and seemingly innocent woman. He glanced at Chewie with a look that was somewhere between elation and panic and darted out of the cargo hold. In an instant, he was standing over the little hole Leia had made for herself, searching for signs of dismemberment or other damage to his precious passenger.

She glanced up at him, furious, then turned back to the debris scattered at her feet.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she huffed. "Your rear reserve engine is not."

"What did you do?" He jumped down into the compartment with an impressive display of arrogant masculinity that she found so annoying and so intoxicating.

"I dropped it. It was too heavy."

"Why did you try and pick it up in the first place?"

Leia frowned.

"I finished the job. I was trying to get it out of the way."

He chuckled, but it only succeeded to incense her.

"You tried to move it? It weighs about twice as much as you."

"You don't think I could do it?"

Han looked from the tiny princess, standing before him in one of his dirty old shirts, looking rather disheveled with her hair coming undone and black oil spattered on her face and perhaps more beautiful than he'd ever seen her before, to the mess of metal and wires strewn across the floor and couldn't help but smirk at her.

"Clearly, Your Worship, you couldn't."

For a moment, she looked as though she was ready to humble him with one of her masterful tirades, but the moment passed quickly as her face melted into a brilliant smile that made his heart skip a beat.

"I guess you're right." She wiped a bit of oil off her face, but really on succeeded in turning the little dot into a black smudge. "Do you think you can fix it?"

He gave her his patented half-grin.

"Do you know me at all?"

Groaning, Leia rolled her eyes and then noticed the blood running down his hands.

"What did you do to yourself, Flyboy? It looks like you stuck your hands in a Rancor's mouth."

He was a little surprised that she was so willing to engage in playful banter after three days of avoiding him. There was still tension, but it was old and worn and they had both grown weary of it.

"Negative power coupling." Han turned to face her fully. "Listen, Princess, we've all done enough work today. Get cleaned up. I'll have Threepio make dinner. I want to teach

you how to play sabacc."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Who says I don't already know how?"

"You don't associate with enough scoundrels to know how to play."

"You, Captain, are all the scoundrel I can handle."

Han pushed himself back on top of the deckplates and looked down at her with a sly smile and those penetrating hazel eyes and she felt herself go weak in the knees.

"That's what I'm counting on."

--

If Threepio was good for anything at all, Han had to admit that he was an excellent cook. They were making a point to eat through the most perishable stores before things went bad and had to be spaced, and the droid was finding innovative ways to use things up. Han, Leia, and even Chewie had devoured a chopped salad topped with leftover nerf steak and crusty bread. Han taught Leia how to play sabacc while they ate, and by the time the droid offered them a dessert course of warm stone fruits and cream, she had fought her way through one game and was certainly holding her own during a second with two of the galaxy's most notorious players.

"You're lucky," he said after a sip of blue milk, nodding towards her growing pile of the quaxhatl candy, colored, disc-shaped fruit morsels that Han had found in one of the galley's compartments for them to use for gambling. Chewie echoed the same sentiment in a soft grumble.

"Maybe," Leia mused, glancing from her cards to the smuggler across the table with an unreadable expression. She fingered her candies before picking up two and tossing them into the center. "Raise you two."

Han's sabacc face rivaled Leia's, and he tossed ten of his own candies in the middle without breaking eye contact with her. He had gotten himself to +21 after his last draw, and the odds were slim that she had anything higher.

"Raise."

They both turned to Chewie then, who growled ferociously and threw down his cards. Han smirked at the angry Wookiee and gave the same look to Leia.

"Guess it's back to you, Princess."

She returned the sarcastic expression with amazing accuracy and pushed her entire pile of candy into the middle of the dejarik table.

"All in."

"You're bluffing."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I might be. You'll have to pay to find out."

Han looked from her to the pot to his cards to his own pile of chips. Leia had an inadvertent tendency to be a cautious player. She only went in big on hands she knew she could win. His cards were great, but he wasn't about to risk the majority of his chips if she had a +23.

"Fold," he murmured, placing his cards back down on the table. Leia grinned smugly and brushed the candy back in front of her and Han couldn't help but smile and feel as though things between them might actually be back to normal, whatever normal might mean. As he grinned at her, Chewie collected the cards to shuffle, and growled something Leia didn't understand, but the smile on Han's face disappeared as his jaw fell open in shock.

"You had a -7?"

She shot the Wookiee an evil look.

"That's cheating, Chewie."

He growled something to the effect of 'I didn't meant to see.'

"You had a -7?" Han was incredulous.

"Yes," she said simply, stacking her winnings into neat piles.

Han's mouth was still agape and she thought about reaching across the table and closing it for him.

"How did you get to be such a good liar?"

She shrugged and studied her fresh cards, then glanced up at him again with a bright smile.

"I am an _excellent_ politician."

--

Chewie retired for the evening, ego just barely in tact after a losing fourth miserable game and Leia excused herself a few minutes later, but Han stayed up another two hours to clean the galley and study the damage done to the reserve engine. With a weary gait and heavy eyelids, he walked by the cockpit on the way to his cabin, but was startled by a pale pink light casting shadows into the walkway. He glanced in, expecting to see Threepio catch something on fire, but his breath caught in his chest when he saw the source of the light.

Leia was sitting in the co-pilot's seat, a look of sheer awe dancing across her face in the serene shimmering light, staring out the viewport at a brilliant nebula. The swirling light was wide and wild. Sparkling pinks and greens and oranges danced across and between the stars, weaving and swirling. The light was coruscating, the colors dazzling, intense, bringing passion and joy and vivid illumination to the nothingness that had surrounded them and blurred together and swallowed the ship whole.

It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Hypnotized by the colors, Han wordlessly took his usual spot at the helm. They were silent for a very long time, watching the nebula as it grew smaller and smaller as they flew past until finally it disappeared from their view and they were plunged into darkness once again.

"Sometimes I feel so small," Leia said at last, almost to no one at all.

Han nodded. He understood. There was silence again as they continued to stare out of the transparisteel, wishing the awesome nebula would come back into view. They were still and quiet, and Han didn't realize he had spoken to her until she turned in her chair to face him and gave him a sympathetic look.

"I lost my faith in anything when my mother was killed."

"I'm sorry." She meant it and he knew as much.

"I never knew my father. She said he died when I was a baby, but she would never look me in the eyes when she mentioned it so I don't really believe her. We were poor and she worked two jobs just so we could have a place to live."

"How old were you?"

"Eight. She was a cocktail waitress at an upscale club. I think it was owned by the mob. They told me that she fell and hit her head."

"Oh."

"I knew one of the kids that made deliveries over there, though. He told me that one of the bosses came on to her and she refused. So he beat her."

Leia felt her stomach lurch.

"Gods, Han, that's terrible."

He shrugged and glanced at her.

"Faith...got me nowhere."

Leia nodded, understanding finally. They were silent for another long moment.

"I didn't get my prisoner's chip removed because they would have to numb my skin to take it out and I've been terrified of needles ever since the Death Star." She didn't know what made her say it, only that it suddenly seemed like the right time to make confessions.

"I know."

"How?"

"When you were sick and hallucinating, I had to give you a shot. You panicked when you saw the needle."

"Oh."

He searched her brown eyes, liquid and sad and mesmerizing in the darkness.

"You're still their prisoner, you know, as long as that thing is inside you. You can't heal from that experience if you have a constant reminder."

"I know." It was barely a whisper.

There was a long pause again.

"I wish we'd gotten there sooner." This time, he meant it and she knew as much.

Leia smiled sadly.

"So do I."

They were silent again, but instead of studying the stars, they studied each other. He read her face, her eyes, and she read his, and suddenly all the arguments and fights they had endured over the past three years made sense and faded away. They were the same, really, Han and Leia. They were both beautiful and tragic and tortured and they used to be so alone. But they weren't alone any longer, because, even if only for a while, he had her and she had him and it was that little detail that made everything else insignificant. They fought because they were flawed, not because they were perfect.

They fought because they loved each other, and that, in a way, was more painful than being tortured or whipped or raped or orphaned.

Finally, Leia sighed and stood up.

"I'm going to sleep."

Han stood, too.

"I'll walk you."

The quiet, dark corridors of the _Falcon _were wide enough for them to walk side by side in careful silence, and Han was surprised when Leia's delicate hand found his and she tangled their fingers together with a small squeeze that was as much offering strength as it was asking for it.

They paused as they reached her doorway, and Han stretched down to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead. He turned to leave, but she refused to let go of his hand, tugging on his fingers and asking him silently not to go. Her eyes were wide and imploring and a deep chocolate brown as he turned back to her, and though she dropped his hand, she did not drop her gaze. She searched his face for a moment, and then silently pulled the threadbare dress shirt of his that she had been wearing over her head and stood before him in nothing but her bra and thermals.

"This," she said quietly as she pointed to a two-inch scar on her left arm, "is from when I fell out of a tree when I was seven and got in trouble with my aunts."

Han nodded but said nothing, and so she continued.

"This," she pointed to a snow-white scar on her right foot that he'd never noticed before, "is from when I was training in martial arts when I was eleven and broke my foot in two places and the bone cut through the skin. This," she held up her right elbow so he could see, "is from when I fell off a swoopbike when I was fifteen."

Leia took Han's hand and placed the pads of his fingers over the five pale scars on her torso from the cuts he'd bandaged for her after they first met.

"They gave me one of these every time I denied Alderaan's involvement in the Rebellion." Han felt a dangerous, sick feeling creep up in his stomach as she he hooked her thumbs around the waist of her thermals and pulled them off so she was only wearing her underwear.

"This," she pointed to a jagged scar on her upper left thigh, "is where one of the stormtroopers kicked me so hard that he cut me. This," her finger was on her left hipbone, just above the waist of her underwear, "is where one of the lieutenants decided that he wanted to have a little fun with me. He cut off my underwear and was about to rape me when Vader came in the cell and killed him."

It was then that Han nearly vomited and had to cover his mouth, but Leia took his hand and touched his fingers to the right side of her neck.

"They injected the drugs here," she moved their hands to her left shoulder, "here," to her right bicep, "here," to her left hip, "here," and finally to the back of her right thigh, "and here."

He studied her for a moment. She was overlooking a few scars, like the one over her eye when he'd fallen on her on Oertzen VI or the healing scrape on her left forearm where he'd knocked her out of the way on Ord Mantell. But then she broke the gaze and turned so he could see her back, placing his hand on her hip so he could again feel the tiny chip beneath her skin. He could see the wide bruise at the base of her ribcage, still black and purple and red in the center but beginning to yellow at the edges, from where he had fallen hard on top of her on Hoth. Leia let him massage the little bump the chip formed under her skin for a moment, then turned back around and caught his eyes with a grave seriousness he had never seen from her before.

"And that's just what you can still see."

Han felt hot tears stinging at his eyes and he opened his mouth to say something, anything, to take it all away from her, to erase her memories, to ease her mind, but Leia shook her head and touched the scar on his chin.

"Tell me," she whispered.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and brought a hand to caress her face, one thumb softly stroking her cheekbone.

"After my mother died, I went to live with my uncle. One night, he was drunk and shoved me into a counter when I asked him what happened to the money she had saved for me. I ran away the next morning."

Leia nodded sadly and bit her bottom lip and traced her hands from his chin to the clasps of his shirt. With a delicate touch, she undid it and slid the garment off his shoulders, exposing the smooth, tan muscles beneath. He pointed to a white scar at his ribcage.

"When I was ten, I was stabbed trying to steal some food. I hadn't had anything to eat in three days."

He held up his right elbow, revealing a scar almost identical to Leia's. "When I was fifteen," he gave her a small smile, "I fell off a swoopbike."

She smiled a little, too, but it faded as Han turned around so she could see his back and a criss-crossing pattern of old white scars that stretched across his shoulders.

"At Carida, I refused to kill Chewie. Fifteen lashes."

It was his turn to slide his pants down his waist and stand before her in nothing but his underwear. He pointed to a scar on his left calf.

"Shot the first time I ever smuggled for Jabba."

She nodded, and he took her hands in his, bringing them to his mouth and kissing each one of her knuckles.

"And that was just before I met you."

She knew the scars he'd gotten after he met her, just as he knew hers. The blaster burn on his torso was the most obvious, but there was also the one on his right arm from when he'd sliced it open doing repairs on Santee and the small one at his temple where he'd been hit in the head when part of the base on Hoth collapsed as they were setting it up.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered quietly, "if I take the chip out or not. As long as I have these scars, I'll always be their prisoner."

Han took her face in his hands, and Leia rested hers at his waist.

"No you won't." He kissed her forehead and then her nose, and then he kissed the scar above her eye and the place where the needle had punctured her skin at her neck and he numbed them all for her. When he spoke again, it was a question whispered against her ear that caused in her soul a spark she had never felt before and she dug her nails into his flesh against the rapture he excited.

"Where did you go?"

He brought his forehead to rest against hers and then their eyes and lips were so close and her voice failed her so her reply was a throaty whisper.

"I wasn't ready for you to ask questions." She circled her arms around his waist, pulling him in closer, as he twisted his fingers into her hair.

"Let me know when you are."

Leia nodded and Han caught her lips and kissed her then. It was quiet and soft and it said so many things and nothing at all. But she was sure it said 'I love you.' And she was sure her reply was the same.

Somehow she managed to stay standing even though her knees had failed her and threatened to buckle; and somehow, even though the kiss was featherlight and gentle, her breath was ragged and so was his when they finally broke apart, but not too far. Her lips grazed his as she spoke and she felt intoxicated as she breathed in the very same sweet air that he exhaled.

"We're the same, Han, you and I."

He nodded and kissed her again, more passionate this time, and she could taste the sparks on his tongue and feel the fire in his heart as he moaned against her mouth and the vibrating sound ripped through them and the hull of the ship and the stars.

"Gods, Leia," he breathed, pulling her body flush against his, letting one strong hand float down to the small of her back and draw her in to his safe embrace. "I don't want to leave you."

He said so many things as he said that, and they all flooded her mind and danced around her body, but there was one thing that he meant above all else and it was the same thing he meant when he kissed her.

"I know."


	20. The Forgotten Hells

Chapter Sixteen: The Forgotten Hells

"_You are the best one of the best ones; And we all look like we feel; You have stolen my; You have stolen my; You have stolen my heart..."_

Dashboard Confessional, "Stolen"

--

"It's your lifeday today."

Leia gave a noncommittal shrug but didn't look up from the datapad.

"I didn't realize we still knew the days."

"I've been keeping track of how much time has gone by between our fights," Han said with a grin, his head suddenly appearing above the deckplates, his body still somewhere beneath the galley's smuggling compartment.

"We needed a calendar for that?" Leia retorted, still not looking up from her reading. "The minutes place on a chrono would do."

Han held up a contradictory finger.

"Ah-ah, Princess. It's been ten days."

She couldn't help but smile because, technically, he was right. It had been ten days since that second night in the cockpit when Leia had retreated after he found her prisoner's chip. They spent three days after that in complete avoidance. On the fourth day they had played sabacc and compared scars and somehow slipped back into that teasing friendship they had not shared since the flight to Ord Mantell. The last six days had been spent cleaning and organizing and categorizing every inch of the ship, joking around, and purposefully arguing over meaningless things just so they had an excuse to steal a quick make-up kiss.

"You're wrong, Flyboy. We argued fifteen minutes ago after you ate the last of the frozen julaberries with your breakfast." Leia still refused to look up from her reading.

"Nah, I only did that because you're so cute when you're pretending to be mad. I happen to know that you only like fresh julaberries."

"I make exceptions in extreme circumstances. Like being stuck in the middle of space in a floating tin can with a scruffy captain, a walking carpet, an insufferable droid, and limited rations." Finally she looked at him, one hand unsuccessfully concealing a triumphant grin.

Han rolled his eyes and pushed himself out of the smuggling compartment.

"Don't forget one spoiled princess."

"Oh, forgive me."

He swaggered over to the couch where she was reclined and leaned in close. His gaze never left hers as he moved in and she straightened ever so slightly, readying herself for a kiss that she knew would make her see stars. But at the very last second, he brushed past her and flopped down on the other end of the couch with a wicked grin.

"Nerfherder."

Han shrugged.

"You've gotta admit, Your Worship, ten days is some sort of record for us."

"It's a wonder I haven't killed you yet."

"It's still a long way to Bespin."

Leia offered him a small smile and hoped that it told him that she wanted nothing more in the galaxy at that moment than for the two of them to be on the way to Bespin until the end of time. She made a move to turn back to her reading, but Han took one of her bare feet into his gentle hands and began massaging it almost absentmindedly.

"It's your lifeday, Leia," he said again. "What are you? Twenty-three?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Are you excited?"

Leia frowned.

"I don't think that much about it. I'm excited I get to live to see another year, but I feel a lot older than twenty-three. And besides, I have the unfortunate luck of being born on Empire Day, and that's just something I'd rather forget altogether."

"Hey, it's not that bad. You get to share your day with Luke. He's twenty-three today, too."

She felt a sudden stab at the mention of their friend's name. Luke had to have gotten off Hoth, she was sure of it. He was probably with the fleet at that moment, celebrating their shared lifeday and wondering if she and Han were still alive.

"He is."

"It's such a funny coincidence," Han mused as he shifted his ministrations to Leia's other foot, "that you guys are exactly the same age, don't you think?"

"It's interesting, I suppose."

"No, I'm serious. You guys are way too much alike. You're both idealistic to a fault, you're both determined, you have the same nose, you finish each other's sentences, you both give me identical looks when I'm doing something stupid--yeah, that one--and you both can be a little whiny." The grin stretched across his face as he said it and she choked back her laughter.

"You pay attention to our noses?"

"Well when you both stick them up in the air like that..."

"Hey!" Leia swatted at him playfully. "Luke does not stick his nose in the air!"

Han chuckled.

"So what are you implying, Laser Brains? That Luke and I are long lost twin brother and sister that have been magically reunited by the Force or whatever powers that be?"

"You are both adopted."

"Well if that were true, it means that I would be a Jedi too. And obviously I'm not, because I would have levitated Threepio off the ship at this point if I had the ability."

"Wouldn't _that_ be nice?"

"I think you're just trying to eliminate Luke as your competition," she accused, a devilish glint shining golden in her chocolate eyes. Han sighed and opened his arms in mock penitence.

"You win. I was hoping it would be easier for you to choose me if he were off limits."

Grinning, Leia shook her head.

"I'm not choosing between you. Luke is just a dear friend. And you are just a nerfherder, so really I'm not making any choices at all."

He pretended to look hurt for a moment, but then the wicked grin returned and he lurched forward, pinning her beneath him.

"You're gonna pay for that, Princess," he growled, and with one swift movement, his fingers were against her abdomen and he was tickling her. Leia erupted into a fit of gasping laughter as she struggled beneath his weight. The datapad dropped to the floor, forgotten, and she brought her hands up to defend herself.

"No! Han!" Leia twisted and tried to kick him, but he hooked an ankle around her leg and pinned her arms above her head, immobilizing her. They both froze, breathing heavily, as they locked eyes and considered the vertical position they had assumed. Leia was still smiling, even as vulnerable as he had rendered her, and Han recognized in her a level of trust he had never seen from her before. She had been in control the night they had ripped open the demons of their pasts and compared scars, but here she was completely at his mercy and she showed no signs that she was being haunted by memories of her torture. Suddenly, Han was overcome with the depth of her faith in him, and he tipped his head forward and kissed her so she wouldn't see the tears that had formed in his eyes.

Leia returned the kiss gently, still smiling as they pulled apart.

"Admit it," he whispered against her mouth, "there never was any choice."

She nodded.

"It was you all along."

"I knew it."

Leia laughed again, a melodious note that he would take to his grave, and he kissed her forehead and eased off of her, retrieving something from his pocket as he did.

"You did not."

Han shrugged.

"I did, but in case you still weren't sure, I brought backup." He handed her a small box, which she accepted with a raised eyebrow. "Happy lifeday, Princess."

She opened the box gingerly, half-expecting a trick gift to explode in her face, but found instead a smooth, white, egg-shaped stone with black script etched into the surface. Gasping, she lifted the stone out of the box and placed it into her palm, where it seemed to change colors with the shifting light. The interior of the stone hinted a lavender shade in the box, but it deepened to an emerald in her palm. As she examined the stone, she recognized the script as an Alderaani prayer. Leia didn't even realize she wanted cry until a tear fell from her face and splashed soundlessly against the stone.

"Where did you find this?" Her voice was a hoarse whisper as she wiped the tears away and turned to regard Han, who was studying her with gentle eyes that, like the stone, had shifted to an emerald green.

"On that last supply run to Thanos right before Ord Mantell. I was in the market and passed by a vendor. I wanted the prayer that you said on the first anniversary..." he trailed off, not bothering to mention Alderaan's destruction, and she nodded appreciatively. "The vendor said that this was a popular prayer."

"It's the life prayer," she confirmed. "My father used to sing this to me in the mornings."

"I got one for Luke, too."

"You were going to leave before giving these to us," she accused, her voice breaking suddenly at the memory of their fight on Echo Base. Guilty, Han could only nod.

"I was going to leave them with Rieekan." He reached out and caressed her cheek, smiling softly. "But I'm glad I got the chance to give it to you now."

"Thank you," she whispered, looking back down at the stone. Just as quietly, she began to read the script._ "__Look to this day! For it is life, the very life of life. In its brief course_

_lie all the verities and realities of your existence: the bliss of growth, the glory of action, the splendor of beauty. For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow only a vision, but today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well, therefore, to this day! Such is the salutation of the dawn."_

"It's beautiful."

Leia smiled softly.

"It's perfect, Han. I love it. Thank you."

He grinned at her delight.

"We're not finished yet, Princess. I want to take you on a date tonight."

She laughed gleefully and Han knew then that he would never stop enjoying that sound. It suddenly became his desperate hope that he could make her laugh like that every day for the rest of her life.

"Where?"

"Right here. I want to make you dinner. I want you to find my nicest shirt and turn it into something pretty and do your hair, whatever you want, but get dressed up. Chewie's volunteered to be our waiter, and we still have enough fresh rations to make a pretty delicious meal."

"I don't know how dressed up I can get."

"You make even Alliance-issue uniforms look beautiful, Sweetheart. You'll look gorgeous no matter what you find. Besides, I owe you. I know more about you than any girl I've ever met, and I haven't even taken you on a proper date."

Leia shrugged, face still alight with her brilliant smile.

"Unless you count that dinner on Oertzen VI."

"Well, hopefully this will end better. And hopefully we'll actually get to eat."

She pondered this for a moment, then extended a hand, which Han lifted to his lips and kissed gently.

"Very well then, Captain Solo. I accept your invitation."

He gave her a crooked smile.

"I'll pick you up at your quarters at 1900 hours. Until then, I don't want you to lift a finger. Today is your day, Princess."

Smiling sublimely, Leia stood and made her way out of the galley. As she reached the entryway, she paused and turned back to Han, who was watching her, still sprawled on the couch.

"And you call yourself a mercenary." She tried to sound accusatory, but really only succeeded in conveying her delight further. Han shook his head.

"Not anymore, Princess. Not anymore."

--

All he could see was red, the color of blood, but not the color of death or destruction. Instead, it was comforting, it reminded him of life, of new beginnings. He was surrounded in a warm glow, an aura of safety, as if tucked snugly beneath soft blankets in preparation for peaceful slumber. This place was gentle and soothing and he was cocooned in an everlasting peace.

Sounds were dull. He could hear a muffled rush, a patterned sound. Thu-thunk. Thu-thunk. The thuds were hypnotic; they cleared his mind of worry, of doubt, of thought. It was a beat, a drumming lullaby. And then there was another. This beat was quieter, softer. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. It was familiar and mesmerizing and it was a sound he loved and remembered and knew he would never be able to forget.

There was a soft brush against his shoulder, a gentle caress of delicate, tiny fingers, and he turned, slowly, still snuggled in warmth and peace, to face the giver of that loving gesture. He saw her then. Her deep brown eyes and the sadness that lay in those beautiful pools, unshed tears for those that perished before her, were unmistakable. The grief was there, but as focused, he found another emotion lurking just beneath her melted chocolate irises.

Terror.

He reached towards her, suddenly clumsy in this bubble of peaceful red, and touched her hand, and she opened her mouth. She was speaking to him, he realized, but she made no sounds, formed no words. He could only hear the muffled thu-thunk and the familiar tha-thump and he realized then he was listening to the beat of her own heart.

Leia.

She squeezed his fingers with her own and suddenly she was screaming even though her mouth had closed and set again firmly. He was hearing the soul-shattering, grief-stricken shrieks of her heart and mind and they ripped through his body and he found himself stumbling over her audible pain. He was cold, he realized, and it was dark. Instead of red, he only saw black, an abyss, the color of despair and desperate souls and the furthest corners of space. And it was so, so cold. She was shivering, he realized, trembling violently, but his hand would not move though he tried to reach for her, tried to draw her in and save her from what was making her grieve so.

Her gaze flew past him then. No, she looked through him, and he turned to see grim hazel eyes and handsome features set frighteningly hard looking back at her. And then he heard the screams of his heart, screams that mirrored her own, screams of torturous pain, of bodies and souls being clawed, shredded, ripped asunder.

Han.

Leia moved then, through him, as though he weren't there at all, to Han's side. And then Han stretched down and kissed her passionately, and as they met he saw the sparks, the fireworks, the brilliant flames of their rapture. Their love was blinding. It burned his eyes and he had to look away, so he turned around, his back to their heartbreaking display, and felt his blood run colder still.

Black again, but this time a black suit and black mask that reflected the black soul that lay beneath. The ominous sound of the respirator invaded his mind, surrounded his body, suffocated him. Chuhh-hua. Chuhh-hua. Another pattern, another familiar beat, but instead of peace and comfort he found fear and anger. His soul was growing cold, growing black, becoming the same black soul that stood before him. So he turned around again, towards the lovers and their blinding light, and as he did they were ripped apart and fell to the ground, bodies broken and bloody, staring up at him with unseeing eyes.

He screamed then, but no sound escaped his mouth, and lurched towards them as though moving through tar. And then he saw his hands as he reached out to save them, he saw the red again. All he could see was red, the color of blood, drenching his fingers, his nails, his palms, and this time it was the color of death and destruction and he was the cause of all the despair. He tried to call for help, tried to cry, tried to close his eyes, but could do nothing, nothing at all, but stare at the sickening blood on his hands, the blood of the lifeless bodies on the floor.

Behind him, he heard laughter. Evil, hideous laughter...

Luke shot up with a start, knocking his forehead hard against the low ceiling of Yoda's adobe hut as he did. He was shaking, drenched in sweat, and his heart was pounding in his ears. He remembered suddenly his dream and brought his hands before his face, examining them for any trace of blood, but could only see dirt and grime, souvenirs of fifteen days spent on a swamp planet.

As he looked around the hut, trying to call something, anything into focus, he calmed his breathing, which was labored and painful in his lungs. The morning light was slowly peeking through the canopy of trees, but it would not stretch far into the shade of the little hut. He could only hear the swamp: bugs and birds, snakes and spiders, the sounds of water flowing and leaves and vines twisting, weaving, and growing. And he heard Yoda somewhere outside, mumbling quietly to himself in a language he did not understand. The cold was gone, replaced by the sticky heat of Dagobah, but the cold was not gone from his soul, the hollow pit of despair firmly settled in his stomach.

Luke took another deep breath, trying to shake the dream from his mind, and crawled out of the hut and made his way over to the wizened Jedi master. Yoda did not look at Luke as he approached, only continued to study the muck at his feet and mutter under his breath. The younger Jedi sat down beside his master and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted before any sound escaped his mouth.

"A terrible dream had you."

Startled, Luke nodded.

"Yes, Master Yoda. I saw my friends."

"See them die did you? See Vader?"

The images came rushing back to him. The blood on his hands, the cold, the chilling laughter. Again, he nodded.

"Master Yoda, did I see the future?"

Still the old Jedi did not look at him, only out into the tangled reaches of his swamp. He sighed and considered his words for a moment before he spoke again.

"Difficult to say." Finally, he turned to Luke, a grim seriousness in his eyes. "Ignore these visions you must, Luke. From Vader they are. On your training you must concentrate or overwhelm you they will."

Luke dropped his gaze in resignation and stood, preparing his mind and body for several hours of the vigorous running Yoda daily demanded. Without a word, he turned away from his master and took a step forward.

"Luke," Yoda said quietly. He froze but did not turn around.

"Yes, Yoda?"

"To you, Luke, a happy lifeday."

--

She awoke with a start, gasping for air as if she had been suffocating, trembling all over from cold and terror despite the warm, safe arms that wrapped around her. The room was dark, and for a moment she was sure she was still sleeping until she felt the fingers that rested on her waist tighten slightly, pulling her closer.

It was then that Leia realized that she was in Han's bunk, and that those were Han's arms wrapped around her. She tried unsuccessfully to quiet the thunderous beat of her heart as the events of the day came rushing back to her. It had been her lifeday, it might even still be her lifeday, and Han had given her a beautiful Alderaani prayer stone, then invited her on a date, an invitation that she had accepted warmly. She had found one of his nicest white dress shirts in his cabin and a thin navy strip of silky fabric probably left behind by one of his old girlfriends and cinched the shirt around her waist, creating for herself a shirtdress that Han seemed to appreciate when he picked her up at her cabin for their 'date.' She wore her hair down, pinned out of her face by two soft braids that began at either temple, then joined into one braid at the nape of her neck, cascading in chocolate waves down her back. Han couldn't stop telling her how beautiful she looked, and over a dinner of nerf steak, roasted tubers, and wine, he would reach across the dejarik table and stroke her hair softly.

Dinner became fuzzy after that, as if in a sepia soft focus, but Leia vaguely remembered that she and Han had remained at the table long after Chewie cleared the plates away and cleaned the galley. The Wookiee eventually announced that he was going to bed and Threepio was somewhere in the cockpit, monitoring the ship's course, and Han had kissed her once they were left alone. It was a deep kiss and it was passionate, but she could only return it lazily, her mind was slowed by the effects of the rich wine. He smiled gently at her then and suggested that they go to sleep, walking hand in hand with her past her cabin and towards his. She remembered being hesitant as they passed her room, but Han kissed her hand and she knew that he was suggesting only that they sleep. So she followed him into his room and laid down with him in his bed and fell quickly into slumber, lavished by the comfort of his embrace.

Leia brought a cold hand down and touched Han's fingertips gently. As she did, the image came rushing back to her, invading her mind, commandeering her senses so all she could see was that terrible, terrible dream.

She saw Han, broken and bloodied, lying dead on a cold, dark floor, staring up with unseeing eyes. And she saw Luke, standing over her, horrified, deep crimson fluid dripping down his hands, his arms. She felt her blood freeze in her veins, she felt her heart stop, as she looked beyond Luke into the black mask of a man so evil he could hardly be called human, the man that had raped her mind, that had stood back and let her world be destroyed before her eyes, the man she feared above all else. Vader was looking not at her, but at Luke. And he was laughing. The sound was nauseating, it reverberated of the walls of her mind, and it wouldn't stop. She shook her head and tried to block it out but couldn't. It, like the image of Han's mangled body, was burned into her soul.

Still so terrified, Leia slipped quietly from Han's strong arms and out of the cabin, hugging the makeshift shirtdress she was still wearing around her trembling body. She crept to the galley and found the prayer stone he had given her right where she left it on the dejarik table. With an unsteady hand, she picked up the stone and hugged it to her chest, then she closed her eyes and prayed silently, brokenly, desperately, for the strength to leave Han.

She had to leave him, she knew, and she couldn't love him.

There were some things that she just couldn't bear.


	21. Catching Angels

A/N: So sorry for the delay in this chapter! I started a new job and I don't have as much time to write as I did. Also, FYI, a scene in this chapter was inspired by a scene in _The Dark Knight. _If you haven't seen it, be forewarned, but I think that it's inconspicuous enought that it doesn't give anything away. Bonus points if you catch the reference.

Thanks for being patient!

--

Chapter Seventeen: **Catching Angels**

--

"_Are the angels coming too; I'm gonna catch them when they come; Catch them as they fall; Climb on top the tower, get me closer to the sky; I'll get the memories back; And save them all for you..."_

O.A.R., "The Fallout"

--

Twelve days. It had been twelve days since the evacuation of Echo Base and the last of the surviving ships had finally limped their way to Sullust. Now, they were only missing six: Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Chewbacca the Wookiee, See-Threepio, Artoo-Deeto, and his little Lelila. The last of the battle reports had come in, and two Green Squadron pilots had reported seeing three Star Destroyers, one of them being Vader's flagship, leave the Hoth system in hot pursuit of the _Millennium Falcon. _Bail felt his thoughts wander to Leia constantly; fear for her safety was consuming him. The normally stoic Viceroy of Alderaan was cracking under his daughter's absence. A father could only believe his daughter had died so many times before it broke him.

Mace Windu was there, still assuring him that Leia was fine, that she was with Han and she would return, that this was all part of the plan. But Bail, blessed with patience unlimited, but perhaps not as much patience as a Jedi master, was frustrated. He wanted to know why Leia hadn't commed to alert him of their position, why it had already taken them twelve days to get there, why Windu didn't know more about their current predicament. The Jedi had foreseen danger befall his daughter, but he would not reveal where or when or what type. Bail had the sinking suspicion that Leia was going to befall harm at the hands of that monster that fathered her, Vader, before his baby girl was returned to him.

The stress was evident in Bail, and though he possessed the same grace, the same ability to hide his pain that he had instilled in Leia, he could not hide his feelings from his oldest friend. Rieekan ventured to Bail's office daily, would greet him after the Viceroy's shifts ended, sat with him during meetings with High Command. Seven days after Leia's disappearance, Bail had revealed to Rieekan what had been predicted for Leia.

"She's Luke Skywalker's twin," Bail said without preamble, with a resigned sigh, staring out the viewport so he did not see the shock on his friend's face. "They're the children of Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker. Padmé died after giving birth to them, and we had to split them up because they are strong in the Force and Anakin fell to the Dark Side."

"Their father is Vader." It wasn't a question, and to his credit, Rieekan displayed none of the disgust Bail had expected. The other Alderaani, Bail realized, had cared for Leia in his absence as if she were his own daughter, and her genetics meant nothing to him.

Bail nodded, then gestured somewhere outside his office.

"The last of the Jedi have foreseen that Luke will conquer Vader and bring down the Emperor, who is himself a Sith Lord."

"Luke will have to kill his own father?"

"Luke doesn't know that Vader is his father, and neither does Leia. Mace believes it will be easier when the time comes for Luke to kill him if he doesn't know he's ending the life of the father he ever knew. Not that Vader has what I'd call a life," he spat.

"You don't think they deserve to know the truth?"

"I do," he said, "but Mace says that is not up to me."

"What about Leia? Why are they gone?"

Sighing again, Bail collapsed wearily into the chair behind his desk.

"Luke is on Dagobah, training with Master Yoda. And Leia is...gods know where she is, but she's with Han and Mace believes she's safe for now." He trailed off for a moment, studying Leia's baby nerf doll that sat on his desk, a reminder to fight every day for his daughter. "The Jedi," he said at last, "have foreseen a future for her, too. They believe she is going to conceive a child with Han Solo, and that child will restore the Jedi Order throughout the galaxy."

Rieekan grinned in spite of himself. He'd always liked that Solo. He also knew that meant there was big money to be won for some savvy gamblers in the Rogue's pools.

Bail shot his friend a look, but couldn't help the smile that spread over his face as well.

"Han's a good man," Rieekan offered, helpfully.

"That he is," Bail agreed, but then a shadow crossed over his face as he glanced at the nerf doll again. "Leia's just so young."

"She's strong, Bail. She's twenty-three now. If anyone in the galaxy can handle what is put in front of her, it's Leia."

"In a way," Bail mused quietly, feeling like a traitor to his people, "it will be easier for her now Alderaan's gone. She can't flout the marriage customs of a planet that no longer exists."

"She'd be married to Asher Forjd now," Rieekan reminded him. "You would have introduced them last year and she would be married right before her lifeday."

This was true. Alderaan's marriage customs demanded its princes and princesses were assigned a suitable spouse from a very young age and were wed before the bride reached her ruling age of twenty-three. Breha's marriage to Bail was arranged when she was four and he was six, a merger of royalty and one of the most influential families on Alderaan. They were introduced when she was twenty and allowed a period of courtship, and Bail was eternally grateful that he fell in love with Breha, that their arranged marriage was one of joy and not tense partnership as his own parents' had been. When Leia was seven, the Forjd family approached him, offering their eleven year-old son, Asher, and a majority stake in Alderaan's lucrative gem industry. Bail had accepted reluctantly. When he adopted Leia, he'd hoped to offer to her a life of freedom, not one bound to such rigid tradition. However, the Forjd family was powerful, and Asher would have been an excellent husband and Prince of Alderaan when Leia became Queen.

"Do you think she'll be happy with Han? Do you think he'll stay with her?"

Rieekan nodded.

"Han's in love with her. He's been in love with her maybe since he rescued her from the Death Star. You can him trust with Leia's heart, with her life. He would rather die than see her harmed."

Bail chuckled at that, relieved, though his fear for Leia's safety still tugged at the corners of his heart.

"Not much of a mercenary, is he, Carlist?"

The laugh they shared helped Bail's spirits, but now at twelve days without a word from Leia, he could barely stand the frustration. The Rebel Alliance had had the strange fortune to capture an Imperial Lambda-class shuttle that had accidently wandered into their airspace. It was piloted by a lone Lieutenant, whom they were now holding in the interrogation bay of _Home One _in hopes that he would reveal to them some shred of information as to the Emperor's next move. So far, the pilot wasn't talking, and since the Rebels were far above torturing their prisoners for information, he was content to remain mute every time a member of High Command entered his cell.

At this point, Bail had left the interrogations up to the military strategists, Rieekan, Dodonna, and Madine, of course, as an Imperial would be even less responsive to a non-human like Ackbar. But it slowly dawned on him that the pilot might have some knowledge of Leia's whereabouts and what Darth Vader was planning for her. What's more, he was a recognizable figure believed to be dead by the Empire, and his presence in the interrogation cell might just shock the pilot into talking.

The chrono read 0215 when Bail decided to take matters into his own hands and made his way, blaster concealed in his robes, down the deserted corridors of the Mon Calamari ship and into the detention bay. The two human guards on duty only nodded at him as he passed through the doors and keyed his access into the windowless cell. Bail stepped quietly into the dimly lit cell, and the sleeping Lieutenant quickly sat up on his cot, his eyes widening with shock that melted into a smirk as he realized Bail's identity.

"I thought we killed you."

"Clearly, Lieutenant-" Bail glanced at the Imperial's rank and insignia, "-Preiss, you need to try harder."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, _Viceroy." _Lieutenant Preiss' voice dripped with disdain as Bail's title escaped his mouth. "Your days are numbered. The Emperor has big plans for you Rebel scum."

"That may be true," Bail said, cooly, "but I'm not here to talk about that. Tell me what you know about the _Millennium Falcon._"

The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Bail's demand, but he only answered with a shrug.

"You know something. Two _Imperial-_class Star Destroyers _and _the _Executor _left the Hoth system in pursuit on the _Millennium Falcon _twelve days ago. Why is Vader following that ship?"

This time, Lieutenant Preiss sneered, an expression that only served to stoke Bail's ire.

"Are the rumors true, then, Viceroy? Has your virginal daughter really defiled herself with that criminal?"

The Viceroy felt his blood begin to boil, and he clenched his fists tightly in a poor effort to contain his rage.

"You will _not _speak of my daughter that way!"

Preiss began to laugh, a high-pitched, mocking sound, and Bail lunged forward and seized the lapels of the Lieutenant's jacket, shoving the other man roughly into the wall and pinning him there. Preiss had the audacity to look startled, but he stopped laughing.

"Your daughter is a whore," he hissed venomously.

Bail's fist suddenly connected with Preiss' nose with a sickening crack, and the other man dropped to the cot in pain, blood pouring from his nose. Without thinking, Bail grabbed the holdout blaster hidden in his robes and pressed it to Preiss' left temple. The Lieutenant scrambled backward on the cot into the corner of the room, the cold barrel still firmly against his head.

"What is Vader planning?" Bail was shouting now, and the guards outside the door were probably on high alert, but he didn't care. Preiss, bloodied and terrified, looked up at him and began to tremble.

"I-I don't k-know."

"Tell me! Tell me what he's going to do to Leia!"

"I don't know!"

Bail pressed the blaster further into Preiss' temple.

"I will shoot you. Tell me what Darth Vader is planning!"

"Bail!"

The voice behind him was commanding, and it startled both men. Bail turned from the cowering Imperial to see Mace Windu standing in the cell, arms crossed, looking as angry as the Viceroy had ever seen. Without another word or glance at Preiss, Bail tucked away his blaster and walked past Mace out of the cell. The Jedi followed, and together they made their way silently, stoically, from the detention bay to Bail's office. It wasn't until the door slid firmly shut behind them that turned to him and spoke.

"Are you out of your mind?" he demanded, angrily.

"Vader is after my daughter!" Bail's frustration with the entire situation was all-consuming. No one had answers for him.

"Vader won't kill Leia. He's too smart for that and she's too valuable."

"He almost killed her once. Why am I to think he won't try again?"

"The prophecy-"

"To hell with your prophecies!" Bail shouted, slamming his blaster down on his desk. "What truth is there? Didn't you believe Anakin was to be the savior of the Jedi?"

"No," Mace countered levelly. "We believed that he would restore balance to the Force."

"And where then, Mace, is your balance?"

The question hung in the air for a long moment, unanswered. Finally, Bail turned to the viewport, his eyes automatically finding the bright star that was once Alderaan.

"Leia will be returned to you safely, Bail," Mace said at last, his voice of little comfort to the distraught father. "I can say that much for certain. But you cannot ever threaten a prisoner that way again. What if someone had seen you? This war will end, Bail, and when it does, the galaxy will look to you as a leader. If it got out that this was how you treat your prisoners, all this fighting will have been for nothing. You'll be no better than Palpatine."

Bail was quiet for another long moment, but finally, Mace saw the tension in his shoulders relax and he turned from the viewport.

"You're right. I was out of line."

Mace nodded, satisfied.

"Get some rest," he said, and like that, he was gone.

--

Han found Leia in the dark cockpit, so small in Chewie's oversized chair. She was staring at the smooth prayer stone she clutched in her hands, but he got the feeling that she wasn't really seeing at all. He had felt her untangle herself from the sheets; she had put a delicate hand on his chest as she climbed over him and he felt the trembling in her fingers, and he had known immediately what was wrong.

It wasn't the first time Han had been alerted to her nightmares. He'd been traveling with her for three years and the walls on the Falcon weren't built to be soundproof. When she'd fallen ill on the return trip from Ryquin, he'd seen just how bad her terrors got, but he had since been unable to find an excuse to invade her privacy, to enter her cabin and calm her down when he heard her moans in the middle of the night.

He never said anything to her. She deserved at least that much.

But he had gone to sleep with Leia tucked securely in his arm and they had fit together so perfectly. So when he felt her disquiet and he felt her trembling hand and he felt her slip out of the cabin, leaving him suddenly cold, he knew he could no longer let it go. He could no longer let her suffer in silence, let her believe she was alone. So he followed her out of the cabin and watched as she picked up the prayer stone lying forgotten on the dejarik table. He saw her clutch the stone into her and close her eyes against the tears and watched as she crept to the cockpit and deactivated Threepio, sitting quietly behind the pilot's seat, before the droid noticed she'd entered. Han gave her a moment before he announced his himself to her with a quiet voice and the most caring tone he knew. She jumped as he spoke, startled both that he was awake and that he had followed her.

"One of my favorite things about you, Leia," Han said as he slid into his chair, "is the way the corners of your eyes crinkle up when you are really smiling."

Leia looked up at him, her deep brown eyes wide in surprise and confusion, as if that was the last thing in the galaxy she had expected him to say.

"What?" Even though her eyes were dry, her voice trembled as though she were choking on her own tears.

Han reached across the short distance between the seats and took Leia's hands in his owns, closing them around the prayer stone, and he stroked the milky white backs of her palms with calloused thumbs.

"I wish I could see you smile more." Green and gold swam in the wide pools of his imploring hazel eyes, and Leia had to look away.

"Stop it, Han," she whispered fiercely. She tried to pull her hands away, but he refused to let go and instead knelt before her so his arms rested on her legs, bare and cold because she was still wearing the shirtdress from their dinner a few hours before.

"None of this, Leia. I won't let you do this." He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed each one gently.

"I'm not doing anything." She couldn't look at him, so instead her gaze drifted out the viewport and into the stars.

"Yes," he said, his mouth still against the soft skin of her hands, "you are." He paused for a moment, studying the scarcely concealed agony in her face and the tension in her shoulders, then repeated quietly, "None of this."

"Why does it matter to you, Han?" He thought that maybe she intended to hurt him with her question, but he only felt his heart wrench with the pain in her voice. He squeezed her hands with gentle pressure, then moved to sit with her in Chewie's seat, drawing her tiny body into his lap. Leia stiffened, but let him circle her body with his strong arms, grateful for the warmth and security he provided.

With a steady hand, Han brushed his fingers along Leia's face, then lifted her chin, coaxing her gently to meet his gaze.

"It matters because I love you."

The words hung in the silence for a moment, Han's eyes gentle and honest, Leia's wide and questioning as she felt herself begin to tremble again, and then all at once the full force of what Han said slammed into Leia. The tears that she had been fighting since she was jarred awake by her nightmare finally began to fall, and she wrenched her head away from his hand even as he pulled her into him. Han kissed her shoulder as her trembling gave way to shuddering sobs, and Leia, despite herself, buried her face into his neck.

"Han," she choked, and she knew the attempt to calm her voice was futile before she said anything, "you can't. Please."

Leia's words were muffled against his skin, but Han understood. He kissed her hair and tightened his arms still, as if maybe he could make her melt into him and maybe that would take away her pain.

"I love you, Leia," he whispered against her. "Don't do this. Let it go."

"I can't let it go."

"Yes, you can. It wasn't your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself."

"They picked Alderaan because of me, Han."

"Leia-"

"They're going to hurt you," she interrupted, still buried into his neck, "because of me. They'll never stop taking away what I love."

The realization that she loved him, too, tugged at the edges of Han's thoughts, but he was more focused on quieting his princess' fears to feel anything but concern for her. He nuzzled her earlobe and kissed the base of her neck and silently willed her to look at him.

"They won't hurt me."

"They will, Han." Finally, she did look at him, and her eyes were tinged red and the tracks of her tears glistened in the starlight and he thought she was beautiful. "I...I can't..." Leia trailed off for a moment as she wiped away her tears. With a shuddering inhale, she calmed herself and met his eyes and for once she did not bother to conceal the depth of her pain. "It will break me."

Han felt himself gasp under the weight of her words, and he brought his hands up to cradle the sides of her face, leaning in so their foreheads were touching and he could see every emotion swimming in her wide brown eyes.

"I won't let it happen, Leia. I won't." His voice was a husky whisper and it caught in the back of his throat, but suddenly Leia's lips descended upon his in a desperate, punishing kiss. There was a love in the movement of her lips and in the way she raked her fingers across his chest and around his back and pulled him into her, but it was not a tender love. Her movements were passionate, furious, angry, and he answered her with equal fervor. Their tongues danced a frenzied step and his hands roamed her body. He tangled one hand into her unbound hair and the other traveled down her arm, her leg, and under the hem of his shirt until he was caressing the sweet, bare skin of her back. Leia's hands mimicked Han's, and the hand wrapped in his hair pushed his mouth closer to hers still.

Suddenly lightheaded, they broke apart, panting for air, foreheads still touching, and Leia searched Han's eyes in the starlight.

"You can't," she insisted between breaths. "I'm not that strong, Han."

"Yes, you are."

She studied him for a moment, then she shook her head.

"I need you."

"You don't, Leia-"

"No." She kissed him again, but she did not close her eyes. "I need you now, Han."

As Leia's words sunk in, Han felt his pulse quicken and vaguely recalled a few dreams he'd had that started out in a similar fashion. But he smiled and shook his head.

"I don't think you're thinking clearly."

It dawned on him that she should probably be offended by those words, but again Leia shook her head. She didn't speak. Instead, she protested with another sensual kiss, and Han felt his hands begin to roam her body again. He drank in the taste of her, the feel of her on his mouth, beneath his hands, the smell of her hair. She smelled like honey, somehow, after twelve days at sub-light with only his soap on board, and she tasted even better.

Leia was manna from the gods. She was nourishment for his soul. She was a breath of life, what he so desperately needed to survive. He felt at home with her because her name was Leia, peaceful and tranquil and ironic because it had been so long since he had known those and so had she. He loved her and it was right and suddenly it was only Them in the universe, Han and Leia, two souls, perfect in their imperfection. They were meant for each other, and he knew it more and more every time her name slipped off his tongue.


	22. Hallelujah

Chapter Seventeen and a Half: **Hallelujah**

--

"_And remember when I moved in you; And the holy dark was moving too; And every breath we drew was hallelujah..."_

Rufus Wainwright, "Hallelujah"

--

Han blazed a hot trail with his lips down Leia's jawline, down her neck, over her collarbone, and her breath was coming in tiny, ragged gasps as he slipped her shirt, really his shirt, from her shoulders. She stroked his back as he loosened the clasps of the shirt, where it slipped off her body and fell to the deckplates, forgotten. Bringing his mouth back to hers in a searing kiss, Han lifted them both from the chair and began to carry her back to his cabin. Their bare skin was hot where it touched and Han wondered briefly if he was burning from the contact. His legs worked on their own; he didn't remember the walk to the cabin or palming open the door, but suddenly he was startled by the contrast between Leia's scorching skin and the silky cool sheets of his bunk.

They were suddenly naked, sleepwear and undergarments shed in a frenzy and thrown across the cabin, and Han found himself propped on his elbows, leaning over Leia and soaking in all that was Her. Her wide brown eyes betrayed none of her earlier sadness, and instead he only saw love commingling with a desire unmatched by any he'd ever seen before. Leia's lips were bitten and red and so achingly sensuous. Her smooth skin was a soft beacon in the low light, her body settled among silken waves of her dark chocolate hair. Her beauty was unmatched and his heart was threatening to burst in his chest with the love he felt, an emotion so powerful, so unlike anything he'd ever known before. His mind struggled for a moment as he tried to piece together how he'd been so lucky as to wind up with her in his arms, but then he bent down for another taste of Leia's gorgeous mouth and forgot to think about anything but her.

He couldn't stop touching her with his hands, with his mouth. He wanted to memorize every inch of her. Han made sure to leave a searing kiss over every scar, over every mark ever left on her by an Imperial probe droid or swoop bike accident or his own brand of heroics. He wanted to erase her bad memories, to heal the scars on her body and her mind, to make her feel pleasure so she could forget the pain.

As his hands and mouth and tongue roamed her body, Han felt Leia come alive beneath him. The passion between them was electric and exhilarating. She caressed his arms, his back, his chest, as if she were desperate to feel all of him. Her breath escaped her lips in the form of tiny moans and his name, and she tangled her fingers into his hair as she reached the pinnacle of her ecstasy and she shuddered beneath him.

Leia gasped and arched her back as he entered, and he cradled her in his arms as he began to move inside of her. He dragged his lips up her neck to her lips, matching every ragged breath she drew. Slowly, she opened herself to him, mind, body, and soul, and she began to mirror his deliberate, searing movement, and it was sweet and tantalizing.

"Leia," he whispered against her mouth, and her eyes flew open to catch his. She kissed him hungrily and he felt the guttural rumble of a low moan in the back of her throat. Her breath was rough, desperate, and his was more so, and they were no longer two warring souls, but one beautiful, passionate entity, one body, one breath, one mind. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes as her passion came to a height again, and he joined her in her pleasure, bringing his mouth onto hers in a punishing kiss, which she returned, biting his bottom lip to keep herself from crying out from her desire.

Han collapsed beside Leia, both gasping for air, and drew her into his arms, reveling in the pleasure that coursed through his body and drinking in the scent that was Them. It smelled like honey and oil from the _Falcon _and love, and it was intoxicating. She fit so perfectly within his arms and he buried his face into her hair and kissed the crown of her head, and she closed her eyes and trailed her fingers delicately all over his body. She touched her lips to his neck, his earlobe, his collarbone, and she lay a tentative hand over the shiny pink flesh of the healing blaster wound at his side. Han pulled the blankets up around them, cocooning them in warmth, in threadbare sheets, in twilight, and then caressed Leia's face and brought his lips to hers again.

"You're so beautiful," he said against her mouth, nibbling at her bottom lip. "I love you, Leia."

She drew her head back from his slowly so she could look at him, study his face, drink in his features. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the cabin, and though she was exhausted from lack of sleep and tears and rapture, she looked content. She studied his lips, his eyes; he felt as though she was looking into his soul. Leia leaned in slightly and placed the most delicate of kisses on his mouth, then looked up at his gorgeous hazel eyes once again.

And. She smiled.

And her eyes, those gorgeous brown eyes that made his heart stop, crinkled at the corners.


	23. Part V

_It had been Chewbacca who alerted him that Leia was rushed to the medical frigate, and now as he approached slowly, flanked by the Wookiee, Carlist Rieekan, Lando Calrissian, and Mace Windu, Bail Organa felt a growing sense of fear for his daughter's life. Luke and Han were keeping silent vigil, sitting wearily on the floor, visible just beyond the waiting area, in the corridor outside of the cold doors, behind which his daughter was fighting for her life._

_Luke must have sensed their approach from the lift, because he looked up slowly with sad blue eyes and gave a short shake of his head, and the four men and one Wookiee chose instead to sink down in the too-comfortable conform couches of the waiting area, five pairs of eyes trained on the young Jedi master, on the young Corellian general, and on the doors that lay behind them._

_They sat in silence for what seemed to Bail for hours, lost in silent bargaining for Leia's life, but suddenly they were all startled into the present by the loud clap that Han's fists made as he slammed them into the cold, white durasteel floor. The Corellian was on his feet, and whether he hadn't noticed their presence or chose not to acknowledge them, Bail couldn't be sure. But Luke was up with him, a tentative hand on his dear friend's, his brother's, shoulder._

"_Han-"_

"_She's my wife, Luke!" Han exclaimed, and Bail felt his heart break at the younger man's hopelessness. "I can't just-she's in there and she might be dy-"_

_His voice cracked at the unbearable thought that Leia, his love, his wife, might be dying, and no longer could Han Solo's eyes remain dry. He dissolved into tears and buried his face into his hands, leaning his forehead against the wall, his body wracked with shuddering sobs. Luke put his hand back on Han's shoulder, eyes shut against his own emotions, and Chewie moved to comfort his friend. Bail, however, put a hand on the Wookiee's knee and stood instead._

"_He's my son," Bail whispered in unnecessary explanation, wiping a tear from his cheek as he walked slowly to Han. _

_The other men in the room felt tears prick their own eyes as the Viceroy of Alderaan embraced his son-in-law, and two of the most stoic men in the galaxy together broke down over the fading life of Leia Organa-Solo._


	24. All the More for That

**A Brief Interlude, or, Where the Heck Is LASOS?**

SCENE opens in the galley of the MILLENNIUM FALCON. PRINCESS LEIA is reclined on the couch that wraps around the holochess table, casually reading a datapad. She is startled when LASOS runs in from stage left, carrying the MOACS update.

LASOS: It's here! I've got the update!

LEIA (sitting up): It's about time! What have you been doing? You have me jump in between the sheets with Han and--

LASOS (interrupting): And you have a problem with that?

LEIA (continuing as if ignoring her, but still blushing furiously): --And then I've been laying in a hospital dying for three weeks. What are you trying to do to us?

LASOS: Um...

HAN SOLO swaggers in from stage right, and LASOS swoons at the sight of handsome, unchecked masculinity in tight pants, but stops when she notices she is on the receiving end of the ORGANA GLARE OF DEATH (TM).

HAN: Hey, LASOS, where have you been? We were starting to wonder where you got off to.

LASOS: Well, I've been in the clutches of Darth Real Life for the past few weeks. I've been traveling for work, training for a half marathon, and suckered in to going to the bars on more than one weeknight.

HAN (agreeing): I know how that goes.

LASOS: Plus, college football started and it's still wedding season. I'm way behind on author replies, and on top of that, Muse has been hiding in a closet. I was able to escape DRL temporarily by breaking Muse out of the closet and locking DRL in there, but he's angry and I don't know how much longer I can hold him off. And Muse is being frustratingly ADD. She wants me to write these other two multi-chapters, but I won't post them until I finish at least one of the ones I've got going.

LEIA: That's probably a good idea.

LASOS smiles.

HAN (pointing an annoyingly attractive finger in LASOS' face): Tell the truth. Are you really going to kill Leia? What's she ever done to you?

LASOS (biting bottom lip and shrugging): Umm...I can't tell you.

Both HAN and LEIA glare at LASOS.

LASOS: Oh come on! It would ruin the story!

LEIA (crossing her arms over her chest): Well maybe you should think about writing a little faster and stop keeping everyone hanging.

HAN (nodding): Yeah.

LASOS (dropping head in shame): You're right. I'm sorry. (She hands HAN the update.) Here's the update, very PG-13 and ever so subtly inspired by an episode of Grey's Anatomy. I hope this is good enough for now.

LEIA: What's Grey's Anatomy?

LASOS: Never mind.

There is a pause as HAN studies the update and then glances dubiously at LEIA.

HAN (shrugging): I guess this will do. Now get outta here so we can get to it.

LASOS nods and exits stage left to go write some more.

LEIA (calling after her): Just hurry up next time!

END SCENE, START NEW CHAPTER

--

Chapter Eighteen: **All the More for That**

"_All that I am; All that I ever was; Is here in your perfect eyes; They're all I can see; I don't know where; Confused about how as well; Just know that these things will never change for us at all..."_

Snow Patrol, "Chasing Cars"

--

"You were right, you know."

Leia's voice was muffled as it squeezed around the wires and circuitry of the aft hold, past metal and tiny spaces before it finally reached him, where he was contorted in the far corner, rather futilely attempting to fuse together the positive power couplings. Han furrowed his brow, almost surprised to hear such an admission escape her lips, and, rather ungracefully, wriggled his way out of the hold to find one petite princess standing at its mouth, extending the hilt of a particularly sharp vibroblade in his direction. Tentatively, Han took the blade from her and turned it over in his hands, inspecting it, before looking back up at her again, confused.

"What?"

"You were right, Han," she said again, her brown eyes swimming with resolve. "A few weeks ago when you found my prisoner's chip." Steeling herself, Leia turned her back to him and lifted up the hem of her tight camisole, exposing the creamy white skin beneath.

Still puzzled, Han placed his fingers over the little bump just above her hip, then reached around and spun her to face him again.

"What did I say?"

She raised an eyebrow, as if surprised he didn't remember.

"You said that I would always be their prisoner. Always, as long as I had this-" she gestured to her low back, "_thing _inside of me."

Han frowned as he looked from her to the blade in his hands. It was dawning on him, uncomfortably quickly, exactly what Leia was about to ask him to do, and the mere thought made him sick to his stomach. He held up the vibroblade.

"Why this?"

"I want you to cut it out."

Her voice was firm and left no room for debate, and she gave him the very answer he didn't want to hear. He gaped at her, almost stupidly, for a moment, half-willing her to crack a brilliant smile and admit she was joking. When she didn't, however, the sickness returned to him and settled like a dense weight in the pit of his stomach. His fingers tensed around the hilt of the knife, angry at the very thought of inflicting harm on the princess that he had loved and protected for three years, the tiny, beautiful force before him that he took into his arms, into his bed, every night, the princess that he shielded from terrifying nightmares and showered a care and devotion and desperate need he had never known he was capable of feeling.

They were two days to Bespin, and already the gaseous planet was looming on the horizon, and both Han and Leia were dreading the end of what had become paradise in the cold depths of space. Bespin meant the end of their relative solitude, the quiet existence as a couple, as lovers, and the return of a Rebellion that would not likely offer them the time they wanted to have together. It also meant a shaky and uncertain future for Han; they hadn't discussed what his plans were upon fixing the hyperdrive and returning her to Gamma Base, and even Han wasn't truly certain what they might be. He had put her in unnecessary danger on Ord Mantell and adamantly refused to do that to her again, but he knew her, really knew her now. Han craved Leia, he ached for her even when she was but a room away on his little ship.

He couldn't leave her. Not anymore.

But he also couldn't hurt her.

And yet here she was, his Leia, his stunning princess, standing before him in a tight tank top and his pants low on her hips, with her hair loose and parted to the left, cascading in chocolate waves down her back, and she was asking him to hurt her. Demanding him to hurt her. And it sliced through Han, cut him to his soul. He loved her, he loved her so much, and it made him angry that she thought him capable of doing something so barbaric.

"No." His voice was low, dangerous.

"It's right below my skin, Han," she protested quickly, placing a delicate hand on his wrist. "You wouldn't even have to cut through any muscle-"

"No," he interrupted, jerking his arm away from her. Leia looked startled by his sudden anger and drew her hand back as if she'd been burned, but she still persisted.

"Please."

"No, Leia!"

Angrily, he shook his head and pushed past her, terror and fury struggling with one another for a hold on his mind. She refused, however, to let him leave this conversation, and was right behind him as he stalked down the corridor.

"I need you to do this for me."

"I won't." He rounded the corner and palmed open the door to his quarters, and Leia quickly slipped in before he locked it behind him.

"Why not?" she demanded, the ire in her eyes and voice matching his. "It's one quick cut. I should think that--"

Han slammed the vibroblade down on his desk that sat beneath the viewport, Bespin looming red in the distance, and whirled around, his face dangerously close to hers, his irises a deep, stormy green.

"What? You should think what, Princess? That a criminal like me wouldn't have any problem butchering the woman he loves?"

Leia barely controlled the sudden urge to slap him, horrified and enraged by such a terrible comment. Instead, she straightened and pushed herself closer to him.

"That is a terrible thing to say! How could you even assume something so awful?"

"I won't do it, Leia." He gripped her shoulders, the pads of his fingers applying almost painful, almost possessive pressure into her upper arms. "I won't."

"I need you to do this for me, Han," she implored.

"I can't hurt you!"

"You're not hurting me!"

"If you think for one second that I could bring myself to cut you open, that I don't-I don't _love _you enough not to hurt you-" Han faltered as his voice broke under the weight of what Leia was asking of him, and she used that as her opportunity to make him see.

"It has to be you, Han," she said softly, bringing her hands up to caress the muscles of his chest beneath his white shirt, "because you're the only one that loves me enough to do it."

"Right," he retorted sarcastically. "I'm the only one that loves you enough to mutilate you."

Leia shook her head.

"Not mutilate. Set me free."

It was clear from the sudden softening in Han's eyes and his stunned silence that he was taken aback by the love and trust that Leia was instilling in him. He was still angry, terrified even, and she could feel the thunderous beat of his heart beneath her hands. But understanding began to muddle its way through Han's clouded ire, and Leia seized upon this dawning realization, bringing one hand up to brush back his dark, scruffy hair.

"Please, Han," she whispered, but the words had hardly escaped her mouth before Han's lips descended on her own, furiously, punishingly. His hands dragged from her shoulders to cup either side of her face and he crushed her into him and backed them against the cabin door. Leia gasped and arched against him as the bare skin of her back made contact with the cold durasteel, and Han circled his arms around her, never ceasing his desperate, hungry kisses. She returned his heated, possessive passions of lips and teeth and tongue, tugging eagerly the hem of his shirt from his pants until her hands and arms found his smooth skin.

Han's lips brushed over her jaw and the spot at the base of her neck that he'd been delighted to find made her knees buckle, and Leia let loose a heady moan as he caught her earlobe between his teeth.

"Do you," he mumbled, his voice warm, electrifying against her ear, "have any idea what you do to me?"

He never gave her a chance to respond. Suddenly, his hands were at the back of her legs and he was hoisting her, as if she weighed nothing, as if she were a feather, and carrying her to his bunk. She landed against the mattress with a soft thud, and he was on top of her, pinning her arms into the pillows above her head, covering every inch of her body with his, devouring her lips, her neck with kisses.

Han and Leia were both caught in the same fury of overwhelming desire, and it came in a flash of clothes tossed across the room, and of skin and sweat, of moans and ragged breathing. They were an intoxicating tangle of bodies, of limbs and sheets. A strangled cry escaped Leia's lips as Han kissed her collarbone, and liquid brown eyes flew open to catch honeyed hazel. In that moment, suddenly, gloriously, everything else melted away. Gone was Leia, the former senator, the ice princess, the tragically homeless Rebel leader, and gone was Han, the cynic, the gruff smuggler, the man hardened under the oppressive weight of a death sentence. There was no past for them, there were no arguments, no tortures, no scars, and Bespin, the Rebellion, and Jabba did not loom in the distance. Han only saw Leia, his Leia, and she only saw her Han.

The love they made was not sweet and delicate as it had been before. It was as passionate and furious as Han's kisses, but the love, the unchecked need was still there. Their movements spoke what they could not, filled volumes and volumes of the epic their lives had become. It was an act of possession as much as it was an act of love, and when they finally collapsed, gasping for air, Leia wrapped in Han's arms and damp bodies cocooned in heated sheets, Han suddenly knew, just knew, that he had made Leia his and she had made him hers and they were forever bonded as one. He would not leave her, could not leave her, bounty hunters and Sith lords be damned.

Han held Leia against him, stroking her soft hair as their breathing slowly quieted and the chill of the room returned with their falling body temperatures. Leia's eyes were closed but she was not sleeping; instead he could see she was drinking in the serenity that blanketed them, as though she could freeze this moment and live in it forever. The corners of his mouth ticked upward at the absurdity of that thought, of being frozen in a moment.

But still, if it ever were to happen, he'd want to be frozen in this moment of absolute oneness with the woman who had captured his heart with only one sarcastic comment, bitten out through a barrage of laser fire.

Leia sighed contentedly and her long lashes opened to reveal molten chocolate eyes that Han knew would never cease to take his breath away. She smiled as she caught him watching her, and he ducked his head and buried a kiss in her hair.

"Stay here," he murmured against the crown of her head, then he tipped her onto her back and rolled over her and out of the bunk. He pulled on the pair of crumpled undershorts that had been thrown to the floor not long ago and palmed open the door to the cabin.

Curious, Leia drew in her knees and sat up in the bunk, wrapping the sheet around her body like a towel, like the dress of Solas, the Alderaani goddess of light, and listened as Han rummaged around from somewhere in the ship. He was back in a moment, medkit in hand, and he locked the cabin door again before setting the kit on the desk next to the vibroblade that started all of this and spread out a clean white cloth.

"What are you doing?" she queried, standing up and crossing the room to him.

"Trust me," Han replied, searching through the kit. He set out a small tube of bacta, a roll of synthflesh, and a carton of sterilizing wipes, then found a vial of a clear painkiller and a packaged sterile syringe.

"No," Leia said, suddenly, seeing him pull out the syringe. "No needles."

Han sighed and squared his jaw in mild frustration as he regarded her, firmly.

"I can't do it any other way, Sweetheart."

"No needles," she repeated.

"Leia." He reached forward with his free hand and caressed her chin gently. "You have to let it go."

Handing her the packaged syringe, he turned back to his makeshift surgical station and began to wipe down the entire vibroblade. As he sanitized the instrument, Leia turned the syringe over in her hands, inspecting it. Her fingers were trembling, she realized, as she held in her hands the very thing that had been the source of so much pain and terror for her for over three years. She could feel every place on her body where a needle had punctured her skin on the Death Star. It was as if the tiny wounds had suddenly burst into flame, had opened pooled with burning acid when she put her fingers around the instrument that caused them, and she fought the urge to throw the syringe across the cabin and claw at herself.

With a shuddering inhale, Leia forced her mind to calm and she looked from the syringe to Han, who was watching her with gentle, expectant hazel eyes, the vibroblade completely sanitized. And as she caught her lover's gaze, she realized that her almost paralyzing fear of needles, another scar, another brand on her body and mind, imprisoned her as much as the chip beneath her skin. The man standing before her had been her savior from her physical imprisonment and he had been her savior from her own emotional torture. She needed him to save her from these last binders, to cut away the staggering remnants that no longer deserved control over her life.

Hands suddenly steady, she tore open the sterile packaging of the syringe and offered the capped needle to Han. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her ear as he took it from her, then uncapped the needle and filled it with a small amount of local anesthetic. He picked up another sanitizing wipe and Leia turned away from him and let the sheet fall to the floor, allowing the man she loved and trusted above all others unhindered access to the small of her back.

Han kissed her bare shoulder as he swiped the area over her prisoner's chip clean, and she arched slightly against the cold touch of the wipe and the tingling pleasure of his velvet lips against her skin. She reached back and pulled her curtains of hair out of his way, but he caught her wrist gently and explored her gaze with his own.

"Let me know if you need me to stop."

There was a care in Han's voice that Leia had never heard before, and it wrapped around her and tugged at her heart. She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat and nodded.

"I will."

She braced herself for the injection, for the feel of a sharp needle puncturing her, tearing her flesh apart, but she felt nothing and suddenly Han was placing an empty syringe back onto the desk. Leia turned around, startled, as he pressed a clean finger to the area around her chip.

"You're finished?"

He nodded.

"Can you feel that, Princess?"

"No."

Han smiled at her reassuringly.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Leia nearly laughed and cried all at once and turned back around as Han picked up the vibroblade.

"No. It wasn't."

Even though she was numbed to the pain, Han still felt sick as he took the blade to Leia's pale skin. The blood, her blood, the crimson fluid that ran through her body, through her heart, that kept her alive and here beside him, began to ooze from the tiny incision and spill down her back and onto his hands. He was hurting her, giving her another scar, and it was tearing at his mind and soul to do it, but he did it because she loved him and trusted him and knew that he would do it because he loved her just as much.

"Can you feel that?" he asked as he set the dirtied blade down on the towel.

"No," she replied, and he continued, finding the chip with his fingers and pushing at it through her skin until it emerged, a tiny metal square, from the incision. Carefully, he plucked it out and set it on the cloth next to the blade, then quickly retrieved the tube of bacta.

Han worked quickly. Bacta and synthflesh applied, he then retrieved a roll of gauze to wipe away the trickle of blood that slid down her naked hip. Then he cleaned the blood off his hands and covered the area with a white bandage that nearly matched the color of her skin and kissed the newly smooth area at the small of Leia's back.

The chip was gone.

Han straightened as Leia brought a tentative hand back to feel the area where the chip had been, and watched silently as she walked over to the desk and regarded the bloody chip that had held her prisoner for so long. She picked it up between two trembling fingers and examined it closely before setting it, almost gingerly, back down on the cloth. She was still for a moment, save for her shaking shoulders, staring out the viewport to the gas giant that hovered outside the window, and Han was about to draw her into him when she suddenly seized the hilt of vibroblade and slammed the butt of the knife hard into the chip.

Leia dropped the knife and it hit the floor with an echoing clatter, revealing on the bloodied towel the destroyed remains of the chip, tiny metal shards. Finally, she spun around to face him fully, and he saw the unshed tears shining painfully in her eyes, silhouetted against shadows, against starlight, and against Bespin's red-orange glow. For a moment, he was terrified that he'd hurt her, but Leia threw her trembling self forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder, clinging to him fiercely, as though she had no intentions of ever, ever letting him go again.

"Thank you," she gasped, her words muffled against his skin.

Han held her tightly, desperately, chin rested against the top of her head, and hoped that maybe, just maybe, the strength of his arms around her tiny body would be enough to protect her, to protect Them, from the demons that lay outside the ship, eager, ready and waiting to take them down.

--

"You let him go?" A frustrated Mace Windu slammed a fist against Bail Organa's desk and looked from the sympathetic ethereal figure of Obi-Wan to the equally frustrated ethereal figure of Qui-Gon to the shimmering blue holo of a stricken Yoda. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Luke Skywalker had fled Dagobah and abandoned his training, his fledgling mind overwhelmed by evil, terrifying visions planted there by his own father. He was supposed to be protected on Dagobah, shielded. He was supposed to have learned to ignore these visions. But he hadn't and he had left, and suddenly all hope for the Alliance, and for the Jedi, was fading quickly. "How could you just let him go?"

"Listen to reason, he would not," Yoda said angrily. "Stubborn and reckless is he."

"You didn't think to tell him that he's only making things worse by going?" Mace demanded, secretly thankful Bail hadn't asked to be part of this meeting that so intimately concerned his adopted daughter.

Obi-Wan held up a hand, silencing the two living Jedi masters.

"Yoda tried to explain, Mace, but Vader knows that Luke is vulnerable."

"Infiltrated Luke's dreams, Vader has."

"He was supposed to learn to ignore those!" Mace retorted.

"Strong these visions are, and terrifying. Unable to block them out, he was."

Mace opened his mouth to argue, but he was interrupted by Qui-Gon's quiet revelation from his position in the far corner of the office.

"Leia shares these nightmares," he said, softly, and the other three masters looked at him, startled by this new information.

"Does this mean Vader knows about Leia?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He can't," Mace replied. "There's no way. She's shielded."

"But the shared dreams," Qui-Gon protested. "And Vader followed the _Falcon _from Hoth."

"He's using Leia for Luke," Mace said. "Vader has know idea what their relation is."

"Vader knows how deeply Luke cares for his friends. He's going to exploit this. He'll torture Leia."

"Leia has been tortured by Vader before," Obi-Wan calmed. "Her shielding is effective. I felt her pain on the Death Star and still could not detect her Force-sensitivity. Vader won't find out."

"If you're wrong, Obi-Wan-" Mace began.

"I'm not," Obi-Wan retorted, firmly. "Vader won't find out Leia is his daughter."

The three humans fell silent and looked at the silent Master Yoda, who had suddenly closed his eyes and was stretching out in the Force.

"Master Yoda?" Qui-Gon asked, tentatively.

There was stillness for another moment before Yoda finally spoke, but still the wizened master did not open his wide eyes.

"Finished, it is," he whispered, "just as the prophecy foretold."


	25. Bespin

So, I'm going to California this weekend, but I wanted to have something for you before I left. Y'all have been beyond patient about this update, and I really appreciate it! I'm nervous about this chapter, so please, please let me know what you think! And seriously, you rock. Your encouragement is so inspiring, and it means more than you'll ever know.

--

Chapter Nineteen: **Bespin**

--

"_You've been the only thing that's right; In all I've done; And I can barely look at you; But every single time I do; I know we'll make it anywhere; Away from here; Light up, light up; As if you have a choice; Even if you cannot hear my voice; I'll be right beside you, dear..."_

Snow Patrol, "Run"

--

Perhaps, Leia mused, if this were any place else in the galaxy, or perhaps any other time in her life, she would have found Cloud City to be beautiful. They had arrived at sunset, and the city, kilometers above the earth, put them amidst the rich pinks and oranges, made them one with the beautiful panorama. She should have been awed, her breath should have left her at the sight, but instead she felt only cold fear as Han's friend, the Baron Administrator Lando Calrissian who was far too suave to be up to any good, led them through his gleaming city to their sparkling suite. Even after a month in the _Falcon_'s cramped quarters, she could find no pleasure in the oversized beds and the large bathing pool in the master refresher that reminded her of luxury she hadn't enjoyed since Alderaan.

She glanced around the white suite numbly before her gaze fixated somewhere in the sunset beyond the large viewport, barely listening as Lando prattled on about the city's attractions and the time it would take to fix Han's beloved ship, and it had only been after the Baron Administrator had taken his leave and Chewbacca had gone to find himself something to eat that Leia realized she and Han were alone in the spacious apartment. He stood behind her at the viewport, his large hands coming to rest on her shoulders and deftly kneading at the tense muscles at the base of her neck. Han bent forward and kissed the crown of her head, her hair braided again in the very same style as it had been during their escape from Hoth, and hooked one finger around the collar of her thick white vest, sliding it down her arms until if fell to the floor, forgotten.

The sky had deepened to a regal purple as nightfall rapidly descended upon the city, and Leia caught Han's intent gaze in their reflection in the viewport. He was just as concerned as she, that much she knew, though he had done his very best to assuage both their worries during their last two days at sublight. That Han was apprehensive, too, eased Leia's mind somewhat. His fear was for her. She could feel it. And that inspired in her some tiny hope. What they had for the past month had been real, was still real, and maybe, though she did not dare dwell on the thought, it would be enough to keep him there with her.

"Your friend Lando is quite the charmer," she murmured, finally turning in his arms from the expansive window. Han's eyes were a dark green, a sign, she had learned, that he was troubled.

"You don't trust him."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Neither do you."

Han sighed and drew her into him, resting his chin atop her head.

"No. I don't."

"But we don't really have a choice," Leia supplied for him.

"No. We don't."

They stood together like that for a long moment, each silently considering possible escape routes and ways for them to stay together long after they made the jump from Bespin. Han's slow, rhythmic heartbeat thumped beneath her ear, hypnotizing her, and in that moment, Leia's unease melted away. She slipped her arms between his black jacket and the white fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer to her.

"I love you," she said quietly into his chest.

"I love you," he agreed.

His hands moved from her shoulders to rest low on her hips then, and she realized that he had begun to kiss her. Han's lips blazed a hot, lazy trail along her hairline, and he began to nibble at her ear, his teeth and breath sending an electric thrill throughout her body. She gripped at his white shirt in response, pulling him closer still and encouraging him to continue.

"Are you hungry?" he whispered against her ear, eliciting an involuntary moan from her.

"No," she gasped, tugging the tails of his shirt from the waist of his pants.

Han dragged his lips along her jaw, then captured her mouth with his. Enraptured, Leia took a step backwards and found her back pressed against the cool transparisteel of the viewport. He moved with her, bringing one hand from her hip to the collar of her snowsuit and slowly began to undo the front of the garment.

"Are you tired?" The words were mumbled over the smooth skin of her neck as Han traced his lips over her exposed collarbone.

"No," she breathed.

"It's gonna be okay, Leia," he said as he pushed the snowsuit off her shoulders and brought his lips to hers again. "We're going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine."

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his gaze as serious as it had ever been.

"You don't know that, Han."

"Leia." Han drew back slightly and cupped her face in his hands, stroking the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. "I know. Okay? I _know_. Do you trust me?"

She nodded, searching his intense eyes.

"I trust you."

That was apparently the exact response he wanted, because suddenly the gravity in his countenance had disappeared, had melted into that attractive crooked grin and bright, honeyed hazel eyes.

"Did you see the size of the bed in the master suite?" The mischief was alight in his face and Leia found his smile to be contagious. "I haven't seen a bed that big in at least three years. Probably even longer than that. Can you imagine all the fun we could have in there?"

Smirking, Leia cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't know. I can imagine quite a lot."

Struggling to hold in his laughter, Han feigned surprise and put on his best Threepio voice.

"Why, Your Highness! Wherever did you learn such crass behavior?"

Her retort was seductive and Han felt his heartbeat quicken.

"I've been spending too much time with scruffy scoundrels." She stretched up on her toes and snaked her arms around his neck, and he moved his hands to encircle her waist, drawing her close.

"Well that won't do," he whispered huskily, his lips near hers and his breath warm and sweet. "You should be in the company of nice men."

"I have a nice man."

"And here I thought I had you fooled-"

Any further verbal foreplay from Han was suddenly silenced by a hard tug on his neck and Leia's lips crushing against his. Pleasantly surprised, he returned her kiss with equal force, a fevered joining of lips and tongue that left them both gasping when they finally surfaced out of sheer need for air.

"Are you sure you don't want to eat first?" he panted. "It's been a while since we've had good food."

Leia nodded and took a step towards the suite, forcing him to step backwards in the same direction in an intimate dance that left no room for wonder about exactly what she wanted.

"I'm sure."

"Lando said there's a good Alderaani restaurant on the third level. They make the best nerfloin this side of the Anoat system."

"Shut up, Han," she interrupted, pushing him another step backwards.

Grinning, he obliged. He kissed her again and they made it three steps to the suite before Han tripped over Leia's discarded vest and they tumbled to the floor together.

They forgot all about the oversized bed.

--

Despite the comfort that Han's presence offered, Leia's sense of foreboding about Bespin only grew. She slept little that night. The oversized bed was a luxury she had not seen since the _Tantive IV_, and even its expanse was not enough to hold the thoughts that had seized her mind and refused to let go. Her skin tingled as though it were electric, as though it would shock Han every time he touched her. It was as if all of her senses were on high alert and her body was waiting, waiting, waiting for a monster to jump out of the shadows.

The morning was no better. She was uncomfortable with donning the deep crimson outfit Lando had sent over for her, but years of diplomatic training had taught her to respect her host and the local customs, so she bit her tongue. It was only when Chewie entered the suite with what remained of Threepio in a box that the flutter of unease that had been with her since before Bespin even loomed on the horizon settled like a heavy metal in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong, she had told Han that something was wrong, and she knew that he felt the same sense of foreboding even as he tried to convince her everything was fine.

She almost laughed when she saw Vader at the far end of the too-pretty banquet room.

It would have been a bitter laugh, of course. Ironic. Because she had been right, because she had known, just known that they were walking into a trap, that the suave Lando Calrissian was up to no good. But she could have laughed, too, because it had been three years since she had stared Vader in the mask where his eyes might be. For three years, he had haunted her dreams and her waking nightmares. For three years, she had felt crushed under the weight of what he had done to her. And, finally, Han had saved her from Vader's clutches. Their time together had rescued her from the terror, the paralyzing fear that the Dark Lord inspired in her. Han had removed her prisoner's chip and cured her fear of needles, marks on her mind and body left there by Vader. She had been set free, and then, suddenly, he was there in front of her again.

It was as if Vader knew. As if the monster knew that she was no longer in his clutches, that she no longer entertained the thought of taking her own life so she would never have to remember Alderaan; as if he knew that the scars from her torture no longer burned when she touched them. He knew she had escaped his hold on her and now he was back, he had her, caught once again in his suffocating grip. And he would never, ever let go.

Leia was cognizant of little as they stepped into the banquet room, her mind clouded by ill-concealed panic, but she was aware of the pressure of Han's hand over hers. He was gripping her hand tightly, telling her without words that he was there, he would protect her, he refused to let harm come to her. _I'm taking your place, Sweetheart_, Han said, wordlessly with a squeeze of her fingers. _He's not going to touch you while I'm here_.

She focused all of herself on Han's presence beside her, on the only source of light and happiness, her only source of strength. Their fingers remained clutched, intertwined as they were forced down to the lower levels of Cloud City by a garrison of stormtroopers.

As they reached the crimson-walled lower levels, Leia began to slow her pace, the numbness of fear finally overtaking her body, and one of the guards hit her hard in the side with the butt of his blaster. Her tiny grunt of pain set off both Han and Chewie, and the raging Wookiee was quickly manacled in stun cuffs as a nearby guard shoved the butt of his blaster into Han's gut, knocking the wind out of the Corellian. She was by Han's side in a flash, ignoring the orders of the other troops and the pain in her side that most likely signaled a cracked rib. The scuffle continued for a moment, Chewie's shouts drowning out the orders from their guards, before Vader finally signaled that that was enough from everyone, not without, Leia noticed, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Suddenly, they were in front of a gray durasteel door, badly chipped, in desperate need of a paint job, and in stark contrast to the blood-colored corridor, and without another word, the stormtroopers surrounded the three Rebels and ushered them apart. Leia felt herself grow cold as Han's hand was ripped from her own, and she searched his eyes fearfully, desperately, unable to call out his name. Han nodded to her as he was pushed through the gray door in front of them and she was pulled down the corridor. He was willing her to be strong for him, willing her to make it through whatever was to come, and she gave him a slight nod in return, promising to fight with everything she had left.

Then he disappeared and the gray door slammed shut again with a sickening thud and she was forced down the hallway and through an identical gray door. She stumbled as she crossed the threshold, then stood quickly and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a stark room, again a foreboding crimson, and on the far wall was a large, rectangular viewport. Where it looked, she had no idea, as any light from the viewport was blocked by dark gray durasteel shutters. There was no furniture in the room, she noticed, and she wondered vaguely just how long this interrogation was going to last.

Leia realized that her guards had not left the cell, and, even more fearfully, that the all-too-familiar sounds of a respirator were filtering into her thoughts. Slowly, she turned to see Darth Vader standing behind her, blocking her path to the doorway, and though she could not see his eyes, she was certain he was looking straight into her soul.

For a long, tense moment, no one said a word, and the only sound in the room was the terrifying, rhythmic hiss of Vader's breathing echoing off the cold walls. At last, Leia could take the silence no longer. She drew herself to her full height and mentally steadied herself to face the object of her nightmares with as much calm strength as she could summon.

"Lord Vader," she began, allowing herself the venom that spilled through her words. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I would be cautious of such flippant behavior while you are here," the Sith Lord warned cooly, pointing a finger at her as he had when he first boarded her ship three years ago. "You are a wanted enemy of the Empire and insubordination will not help your case."

"I would be more concerned," Leia rejoined, "if the Imperial justice system weren't a farce. You are holding us without a shred of evidence to prove our guilt, and yet I'm confident that my trial will only end in swift execution."

"You are a traitor, Your Highness. You could only hope for a swift execution."

The threat made Leia's blood run cold, but her stony mask remained in place and she prayed that Vader could not hear the quickening of her pulse.

"I seem to recall your methods of persuasion getting you nowhere the last time I shared the pleasure of your company," she accused. If she was to be tortured, she had little interest in playing these mind games first. "I can assure you, now will be no different."

"I agree, Your Highness," Vader retorted levelly. "Your ability to withstand aggressive negotiations is...considerable. However, you should not believe for a moment that I intend to leave this place without what I'm seeking. I can assure you, Princess, you will give me what I want."

Leia raised an eyebrow.

"You should know by now that I won't break under your mind probes, and you already hold the esteemed honor of being the one who destroyed my home. You can't possibly have anything else to take from me."

Even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true, and she also knew that Vader was aware of as much. Han might not have been in the room, but his presence was painfully obvious and the Sith lord was not going to let her forget. If Vader had the capability to smirk, she imagined that he would be doing so at that moment.

"Why, Princess," he said, his sarcasm evident despite the respirator, "surely you haven't forgotten about your Corellian smuggler? He's fiercely protective of you, which is surprising for an unscrupulous criminal."

He was baiting her and she knew it, but she still fought to keep the angry tremor out of her voice.

"You know nothing of him."

"I know enough."

"Then you must know enough to realize he knows nothing about the Alliance. He's not aware of our base's location. We hire him to pilot and I only tell him where to go when we get to the system. You won't get anything useful out of him."

At that, Vader chuckled, but it was a dark, menacing, mechanical. If the monster had ever been human, any humor had been driven from his organic self long, long ago.

"Your desire to protect Captain Solo is admirable, but it will not help him."

"He has nothing to do with the Alliance," Leia protested, on the verge of panic for Han's safety. "Your quarrel is with me. Take him out of this."

"It's interesting, isn't it, Your Highness," Vader queried, knowing that he had hit his mark when Leia's breath caught in her throat, "that the people you love most seem to suffer for your mistakes. Perhaps if you hadn't been so zealous in your quest, Alderaan would still be here."

She wanted to cry then. Desperately. She felt her eyes fill with tears and the same painful, familiar heartbreak that she had struggled against for three years, a pain that Han had only recently helped erase. Alderaan had perished because of her, and now so would Han. She wanted to feel anger, to feel hatred towards the black monster in front of her, but she only felt trembling, desperate fear for Han's life, for their new love. She blinked her eyes twice, refusing to let the tears fall, but when she spoke again her voice was shaking.

"That's a lie" she accused, more to reassure herself than to attack Vader. "Tarkin had targeted Alderaan long before I was ever taken prisoner."

"Perhaps. It was a lovely planet. It's a pity that it met the fate it did."

"No!" Leia shouted, almost surprised at her outburst. "No! You will not say that. You have no right. You _destroyed _Alderaan and you have no right to mourn her."

Vader took a step towards her and she retreated one.

"I never lifted a finger to your planet, Princess. Tarkin gave the orders to fire and he was commander in charge of the Death Star. You will not accuse me of something in which I had no part."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Leia registered the irony of that statement. But she had no time for irony, for sick humor. The fear, grief, hatred were boiling inside of her and she was reaching her breaking point. Attempting to steel herself, she clenched her fists by her side until her knuckles ran white and her fingers threatened to shatter.

"You are no less guilty," she said quietly, dangerously. "You stood by and did nothing as billions of lives were ended."

"And you are no less guilty for the role you played in the destruction of the Death Star and the millions of Imperial soldiers stationed on board."

Vader was still relishing their verbal spar, but his voice had lost some of its ire. Instead, he had tilted his head to the side as she spoke her last retort, and was looking at her with what Leia could only believe to be curiosity. The thought made her nauseous, but she would not back down.

"I guess we're even then," she bit sarcastically.

He said nothing, only continued to study her with that same curiosity. The scrutiny was making her uneasy, so she took another step backwards. Still, the Dark Lord said nothing, and the only sounds in the room were the hiss of his respirator and the thundering of her own heartbeat in her ears. Even the stormtroopers still in the cell with them seemed to be perplexed by Vader's abrupt silence and were looking back and forth between the Princess and the Emperor's second in command.

And then, suddenly, the silence in the room was pierced by a sickening scream of pain. Someone nearby was being tortured, terribly tortured. The scream was primal, raw, and it tore through the cell and Leia's soul. She wanted to put her hands over her ears, block out the sound, but then there was a sudden yell that was all-too-familiar and made her blood run cold.

Han. Han was screaming. It was Han who was being tortured.

Leia's breath was coming in short gasps and her lungs could not take in enough air as her eyes darted around the room, searching for the direction of Han's pain and a way out to help him. Her movement seemed to draw Vader from his reverie, because suddenly he was nodding at the stormtrooper standing by the far wall. The soldier nodded back and pressed his gloved hand to a panel, and then the dark grey shutters slid up to look into another room, a cold, gray-walled cell.

There was a hand on her shoulder, but she barely registered the contact. She only saw what lay beyond the transparisteel. Han was on the scan grid, his bound hands clenched in white-knuckled fists, his handsome face skewed in unbearable pain. He was screaming with every spark, every electrical shock from the white-hot needles pressing into his chest. He was being tortured, tortured in front of her eyes, and there was nothing she could do to help him.

Vader's grip on her shoulder tightened, but it did not register. Leia was unaware of her own loss of control, her own screams, her own struggling, until she was across the room, slamming her fist against the transparisteel and screaming Han's name. She had fought her way out of the Dark Lord's grasp, ripping her dress in the process, and now her shoulder and left arm were exposed to the cold air of the cell. Leia slammed her fist against the viewport again, but Han only continued to cry out against the pain from the grid. One of the troopers in the cell made a motion to restrain her, but Vader held up a hand, stopping him, and stepped behind the distraught princess, the woman who had held steady as her world was destroyed now crumbling before him at her lover's pain.

"Your feelings for the smuggler run strong," he mused quietly.

Leia pressed her right hand and forehead against the transparisteel, her voice hoarse and trembling.

"Stop this. He doesn't deserve this. Let me take his place."

She was pleading, but seeing Han's pain had pushed her past the point of caring. She had to help him however she could. Vader had never been sympathetic to her defiance and she doubted he would be sympathetic to her entreaty, but perhaps he would let her take Han's place.

"You cannot take his pain," Vader replied, studying her again, though she took no notice. "You have your own."

Han shouted again and Leia squeezed her eyes shut. She ignored Vader beside her, ignored the wall between them, and focused on Han, willing him silently to be strong. She said a prayer to the goddess to ease Han's pain and imagined that she was holding him in her arms, that it was just the two of them far, far away from this torture.

_Han, _she thought, opening her eyes to look at him. _Han, you have to be strong. I'm here. Be strong. We're going to get out of this. _

On the scan grid, Han's head inclined slightly in her direction. His eyes were still shut and his hands were still clenched, but there was a flicker of recognition in him. He was feeling something beyond the pain.

"Leia," he breathed, then screamed again as a fresh wave of electricity hit him. She seized on his acknowledgement and pressed her hand harder against the transparisteel.

_Han! Remember what you said last night? You said we're going to be fine. Okay? We're going to be fine. I'm going to get you out of this but you have to stay strong for me. Fight this, Han!_

Nearly forgotten, Vader watched, awestruck, as Han unclenched his right hand in silent understanding of Leia. The princess was using the Force, albeit unknowingly, to connect with her lover, to speak in his mind and ease his pain. He could hear her as she spoke to the smuggler, and yet her presence was unremarkable, did not betray her to be a Force-sensitive.

How had he never noticed before? She had been so resistant to his mind probe, had never wavered once under even the most brutal torture aboard the Death Star. When Alderaan was destroyed, her pain and anger had been a beacon next to him, but then his mind was crowded with the final cries of billions of Alderaani and he had taken no notice. Still, he should have realized her ability on the Force. Her connection with the Corellian now was so strong, was unmistakable. For him to have never recognized her before meant that she was shielded, and powerfully.

The protective shields placed on the princess, however, did not extend to the child she carried within her. No, he radiated in the Force, he shone with the innocence and purity of the Light despite the fact that he could have been no more that a few days in existence. Vader doubted that even Leia realized she was pregnant, much less anyone else around her.

Leia's child, Vader realized, could be a powerful ally, as could the princess herself. His son was the strongest Force presence he had ever seen before, but he could be too determined to serve the Light to ever truly be turned. The princess, however, knew pain. She knew what it meant to be angry, what it meant to hate, and those emotions could fuel her turn to the Dark. And the son that she carried could be raised to know nothing but the ways of the Sith.

A high-pitched whine followed by a desperate cry from Leia tore Vader from his thoughts. He realized that Leia had again slammed her hand against the transparisteel and that Han lay motionless on the scan grid. The whine was emitting from his vitals sensor, and the medic in the room was working frantically to revive the smuggler.

Solo's heart failure incensed Vader. If he were to lead his son to Bespin, if he were to tempt Leia to the Dark Side, the smuggler's presence was vital. He could be a powerful lure. Leia had not been willing to sell the Alliance for Alderaan, but she might be willing to trade her soul for Han's.

Angrily, he pointed at the two troopers nearest Leia, gave them their orders, and stormed out towards Han's cell.

"Take her to change clothes and put her in the cell with the Wookiee. And do not hurt her."

--

It was a sudden pain. It came on quickly and tore through his chest, causing him to double over, gasping for breath.

"Are you all right?" Bail Organa asked worriedly, crossing the office to where Mace Windu crouched in front of the viewport. "Do we need to call a medic?"

Clenching his jaw, Mace shook his head shortly and straightened. He turned to see Bail's dark eyes studying him, concern etched into the viceroy's wearied and handsome features.

"I'm fine."

"What happened?" Bail motioned for the Jedi to sit in a nearby repulsor chair, but Mace declined and turned back to the viewport. He was silent for a long moment, seemingly hypnotized by the swirling star system in the distance. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tense, and Bail was certain that Mace was not speaking to him.

"She's formed a link with him. I didn't expect that."

"What?"

Unseen and unheard by the Force-blind Organa, the ethereal forms of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn stood beside Mace, conversing with the still-living Jedi master.

"Vader can sense the link," Qui-Gon said softly.

"She's more powerful than even we suspected," Obi-Wan added. "How Vader never realized it on the Death Star is a miracle."

"She's shielded," Mace rejoined, frustrating Bail further by refusing to acknowledge the other man. "She was shielded then, too, but that was because she never formed a link."

"There are no shields on the child. If Vader can sense his grandson--"

Mace slammed a hand against the viewport, interrupting Qui-Gon and startling Bail.

"Vader cannot sense that she carries his grandson! He doesn't know that Leia is his child."

"Mace!" Bail demanded, bringing the Jedi from his conversation. They were discussing his daughter, and no longer could the viceroy stand by wondering Leia's fate. Windu finally turned his gaze back on Bail, his eyes a mixture of worry and exhaustion that filled Bail with fear. "Tell me what is happening to my daughter!"

"Leia has unconsciously formed a Force link with Captain Solo," Mace said with a sigh, finally collapsing into the repulsor chair. "Vader can sense the link, and he can sense that she is pregnant."

Bail felt a wave of nausea wash over him, terrified of what the old Jedi was going to say next. He knew, somehow, that his daughter was in pain at the hands of her birth father, and he was powerless to save her. As the man who raised her, who cared for her as his own and loved her with all his heart, the mere thought of Leia's pain was enough to send Bail over the edge.

"What's happening to her?" he asked weakly, leaning against the edge of his desk for support.

"Vader is torturing Solo and he's forcing Leia to watch. He knew it was the only way to get to her."

"Why?"

Mace clutched at his chest and grimaced.

"To get to Luke. Leia is sending her pain through the Force, and so is Han. I can feel it. Luke can feel it, and it's leading him to them."

Bail's eyes flicked to the viewport, then back to Mace.

"We have to do something. If Vader realizes that Leia is his daughter..." he trailed off, unable to complete his thought, but Mace was already shaking his head.

"We can't do anything. This is Luke's battle to fight alone."

"But you said he wasn't ready to confront Vader." The inability to help his daughter was weighing on Bail, and his concealed panic was beginning to show in his voice.

Mace closed his eyes and ducked his chin to his chest, defeated.

"He isn't."

--

By the time Leia had numbed herself to her terror, changed back into her snowsuit, and been shoved into the dark holding cell, Han had been revived and subjected to another round on the grid that nearly stopped his heart again. She had not expected him to be there when her guard pushed her roughly into the cell, but she felt his presence before her eyes had adjusted to the dark and was kneeling next to him in an instant, her tiny hands cold against his burning forehead. She was still terrified and perhaps in shock from seeing Han come so close to death, but for the moment she was content to be there next to him.

Of course, their quiet reunion was interrupted almost immediately by Lando and resulted in additional pain for Han, who was on the receiving end of several blows from the guards after he punched his former friend in the jaw. The baron administrator delivered the terrible news, that Han was to be handed over to Jabba, that Luke was on his way, then left them alone in the cell to contemplate their fate. As she and Chewie helped Han back to the hard bench on which he had been resting, Leia fought back the sick feeling in her stomach. She knew that Han had to leave her; they had even discussed it earlier that morning. But he had promised her he would come back. She had pressed to go accompany him to Tatooine and he had refused, confident that he would be able to handle the angry Hutt on his own. Being captured by the bounty hunter, however, changed the game for him, and deep down, Leia knew that it would not be so easy for Han to make it free from Jabba's clutches.

"Wait," Han said as she and Chewie lowered him towards the bench. He looked at the Wookiee with a pained smile that Chewie understood immediately, then turned his hazel eyes on Leia. With Chewie's help, he took a step towards the wall, then sank down to the floor. The Wookiee retreated to the shadows of the cell, and Han opened his arms for Leia. "C'mere, Princess," he whispered.

She tried to smile at his attempt at humor as she settled into the strength of his embrace, but she had lost the energy to do so. Instead, she leaned her head carefully against his chest and felt him brush his lips against her forehead.

"Leia-" he began, his voice thick with emotion.

She shut her eyes.

"Don't say it, Han."

"Leia," he said again, more determined this time. "Promise me you'll get out of here. Get back to the fleet. If I make it out of this-"

"No!" she exclaimed, looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. "Don't talk that way!"

Gingerly, he brought a hand up and caressed her face.

"If I make it out of this, Sweetheart, I'll come back for you there. Do you hear me?" She nodded and he attempted another smile. "I worked too hard to get you to come around to give up now. I'm not letting you go."

A small smile danced across her own lips and she settled back against his chest.

"Stubborn," she whispered and felt him chuckle softly beneath her.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah I am."

Leia sighed and nuzzled closer to him, placing a hand over his chest so she could feel his even breathing and the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Good. Me too."

They fell silent for a long time, each cherishing the feel of the other and unable to say anything that would ease the pain of what was to come. Han's breathing grew quiet and shallow, and Leia closed her eyes, assuming that he, exhausted from his torture, had fallen asleep. She, too, was dancing around sleep, had nearly forgotten about their current plight, when he spoke again, his soothing baritone like a warm blanket over her body.

"I love you, Sweetheart."

Leia felt tears prick her eyes, and she squeezed them tighter, refusing to let them fall.

"I know."


	26. Shatter

**A/N: **So, is it even worth apologizing at this point?

Seriously, though, if you are _at all _excited about this update, thank LittleCatt entirely. She's my kickass beta, my bestest friend, _and _she convinced me not to take this story down when I was super fed up with it and determined not to continue.

--

Chapter Twenty: **Shatter**

--

"_Woke up and wished that I was dead; With an aching in my head; I lay motionless in bed; I thought of you and where you'd gone; And the world spins madly on..."_

The Weepies, "World Spins Madly On"

--

The first sense that returned to her as she drifted awake was sound. She could hear the hum of the _Falcon_'s engines, singing her a sweet lullaby, a familiar, welcome tune. Then her mind registered the feel of the cool sheets beneath her skin. They were soft and threadbare, and she knew without opening her eyes that they would be pale baby blue. She remembered once teasing him about the color and the way he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

Smell came to her next. She was surrounded, blanketed, by the intoxicating aroma of him--a heady combination of his clean soap and engine grease and the detergent he used on his clothes. It was familiar and comforting, faintly sweet. It was the smell of home.

Her heart fluttered in that instant. She was on the _Falcon_, she was in Han's bed. Maybe it had all been a dream, a terrible, terrible dream. They weren't yet to Bespin. There was never a deceptively beautiful city in the clouds. They didn't see Vader and they were never betrayed by Lando Calrissian. Han's torture, the screams burned, burned, burned into her mind, were just a terrible nightmare. He was on the ship somewhere, maybe in the galley or the cockpit, because he had never been encased in a carbonite coffin and she had never been made to watch him die.

She could convince him, she realized. Her dream had been so vivid, so terrifying, so real, that he would have to listen to her. He would see the fear in her eyes and set a new course. They would find safe port somewhere else, maybe Mataou. She could convince Chewie if he wouldn't listen, or maybe set the coordinates herself after he went to sleep again. Anywhere, anything other than Bespin.

Slowly, Leia opened her eyes to the dimness of Han's bunkroom. She was curled on her side, her knees drawn to her chest, and facing the small viewport above Han's desk across the cabin. The light filtering in through the transparisteel was odd--bright and blue, swirling past and casting distorted shadows on the ceiling. It wasn't the slow starlight she had grown so familiar with over the past month. The hum of the engines was different, too. Not the gentle growl that had lulled her to sleep, but a quieter, smoother whirring.

The cold didn't slam into her then; instead, it began in the hollow of her stomach and traveled through her veins to her heart, then spread over her through the intricate network of arteries that slithered and danced through her body. It wasn't until her fingers, knuckles still white, still clenched in tight fists, went numb with the cold that she realized she couldn't breathe. She felt like there was a Hutt sitting on her chest, like she was suffocating, and yet she could bring herself to make no attempt to draw in air.

Her head hurt, too. A hot line of pain cut her mind in half on a diagonal. She could feel it throbbing, pulsating. It was as if someone had taken a vibroblade to her skull, as if someone had slammed her head against the hard floor until it cracked open and stained everything with her blood.

It wasn't a dream. It was all too real. They did go to Bepsin. They were betrayed by Calrissian and the scars of Han's pain would never, ever go away. His screams were branded in her mind, like the glittering stardust that was once Alderaan. She was made to watch as he was lowered to what could have been his death. She could still feel the heat of his lips on hers from that last, desperate kiss; she could still see the ghost of a smile in his eyes as he tried to lie to her on that platform, as he tried to convince her that everything would be fine.

But it wasn't fine. It had happened. It had all happened and now Han was gone. He wasn't lying there next to her, waiting for her to wake up. He wasn't in the galley or watching the stars from the cockpit or tinkering with the alluvial dampers. He was on his way to a fate worse than death, and she couldn't be sure if she would ever see him again.

The inhale Leia took then was sharp and ended in a strangled gasp of pain as the expansion of her lungs pressed aggravated the lower ribs she was almost positive had been cracked by the butt of a blaster as they were led to the bottom levels of Cloud City. She tried to take a shallower breath, but it caught in her throat with a shuddering sob and she need not touch her face to know that the tears had begun to stream from her exhausted eyes.

They were in hyperspace on the way to the Rebel base at Sullust. It was a twenty-hour trip, one for which she knew neither Chewie or Lando would sleep. Lando had sedated Luke not long after they escaped the Star Destroyers, citing that his injuries were severe and he would heal faster if he slept. Luke hadn't argued, and Leia noticed something that looked like relief in his eyes at the thought of a dreamless sleep. Her friend was in pain, that much she knew, and his pain ran deeper, much deeper, than the loss of his hand. The confrontation with Vader had left him emotionally damaged and he looked as though he had aged ten years in the short hours at Bespin. He did not seek Leia's comfort, comfort she had no ability to give, as he had after Obi-Wan Kenobi's death. Instead, he retreated quickly to the medbunk without a word, avoiding her tired gaze as though he were afraid of what she would find there.

She must have fallen asleep in Chewie's chair not long after. Her terribly accurate premonitions about Bespin had kept her awake for two nights before their capture, and the subsequent terrors they had faced had left her drained, used up. She had thought that perhaps she was too sad, in too much pain without Han to ever sleep again, but she had woken up in his bunk, carefully tucked under the covers in a way that only Chewie could have done.

Another sob tore through her, and it vaguely registered in her mind that she had no idea how close they were to Sullust, and she should really pull herself together before anyone could see her pain. Not that it mattered much. Lando and Chewie had been in the carbon chamber, probably heard her heart break even over the terrible sound of Han's frozen form slamming against that cold floor. And Luke would know, as he always did, without her ever saying a word.

She had lived for three years with the fear that Han would leave her, but never like this. If he had left the Alliance, if he had left her, if he had _chosen _to go, she might have been able to handle it. She would have been crushed, of course, but she would file it somewhere in the far recesses of her mind and refuse to acknowledge the salt in the gaping wounds of her heart. At least if he had left her, she could have been angry, she could have raged, and she could have the hope that one day she would see him again so she could kill him herself. But to have him ripped away from her, to see him tortured, to know that he was barely alive and the minutes of his life would probably expire before they could even devise a plan to rescue him was unbearable. Impossible.

She had broken after Alderaan. Her soul had been hacked asunder. She hadn't thought there was anything left to break, but she had been wrong.

Leia was shattered.

There was a small click and the door hissed open quietly, but she made no move to hide her tears. She didn't have the energy. She heard the soft footfalls as someone stepped into the room and heard the door slide shut again. Not bothering to look up, she simply waited as her visitor crossed the cabin and sat down next to her on the bed.

Chewie growled softly and placed a hand on her arm. The month at sublight had not left her fluent in Shriiwook, but she had picked up enough to understand him.

"Oh, Chewie," she whispered, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. He growled again, a mournful lament for Han.

"_I know, Princess," _he growled. "_I miss him, too."_

Unable to speak, Leia merely nodded and gingerly pushed herself into a sitting position against the pillows. She swiped at her eyes quickly, and Chewie smiled, indicating she had erased the evidence of her tears.

"How much longer?" she asked, her voice still trembling.

"_I was just coming to get you. We drop in half an hour and I don't have the security codes for the base."_

"I've been out for that long?"

"_You needed your rest."_

"But, Chewie, you need rest too! You could have come and gotten me-"

The Wookiee held up a paw, silencing her.

"_I'm fine. I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway."_

Leia sighed. She knew how that felt.

"_Take a minute_," Chewie suggested, "_and then come join us in the cockpit. "Lando and I have worked out a plan to rescue Han."_

"You mean Lando's actually helping?" she asked incredulously. "He's not just here because he doesn't have anywhere else left to go?"

He nodded.

"_He feels terrible about betraying his friend and is willing to do whatever is necessary to right that wrong. But," _the tone in his growls became menacing, and Leia hoped that she would never be on the receiving end of one of the massive Wookiee's terrifying threats, "_Lando knows that if anything goes wrong, I will destroy him."_

"Not if I get there first," she said quietly.

"_You won't_," he rejoined, and she couldn't help but smile.

"How's Luke?" Leia asked suddenly, embarrassed that she had nearly forgotten her dear friend.

"_He's still sedated. It's the best thing. He can sleep through the worst of the pain." _

The memory of seeing Luke desperate, clinging to life beneath Cloud City, filled her mind and Leia shook her head to clear the image away. She felt worse that she had after Alderaan was destroyed. The losses had been crushing then, but she had never truly believed that she had much longer to bear the pain. Then Han came into her world and had slowly saved her, slowly allowed her to abandon the hope that she would die during the next evacuation. He had given her strength to continue

"How did things ever go this wrong?" she whispered.

The hulking Wookiee put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. It was a question he didn't know how to answer.

"_Do you need a minute, Princess?"_

She shook her head and took a final swipe at her eyes.

"No. I'm fine now. Besides, I've got a few things I'd like to say to Lando while we're out of earshot of anyone who could ruin my future political career."

_--_

By the time the long-absent _Millennium Falcon _docked with the _Redemption_, every single Rebel over Sullust had learned of the ship's survival, and the recycled air on the cruisers was practically electric with the excitement. The loss of the battle at Hoth was still fresh in the memory, and the return of the Alliance's favorite heros signaled for many a turning point in the war. All activity aboard the largest medical frigate suddenly came to a standstill as every buzzing soldier aboard the ship crowded the hangar bay, vying for a glimpse of Skywalker, Solo, Organa, and Chewbacca.

The _Falcon_'s passengers, however, were in no mood for a welcoming celebration, and the medical staff swiftly escorted the missing heros through the fray before they had even a chance to notice the applause and cheerful waves. Luke, his weight mostly supported by Chewie at his left, led the tattered group, followed by Leia, Threepio and Artoo, and then Lando. Tuck Ello, the Alliance's cheif medic, shuffled them behind the frosted doors that separated the private waiting area and triage facilities from the bay just as Bail's shuttle from the _Home One _landed beside the _Falcon. _As she passed the medic and old friend, Leia gave Tuck a meaningful glance, one that very clearly read, _"Don't let my father in yet." _

There were very few Rebels with the gall to refuse Bail Organa, but Tuck was one who was willing. He nodded once at the princess and palmed the triage doors shut behind the battered heroes just as Bail breathlessly approached the threshold. The towheaded medic, though tall, was shadowed by the formidable ruler and the flanking General Rieekan. Tuck could easily have been intimidated, but instead he merely smiled warmly as though he didn't notice the look of almost frantic concern on Organa's handsome face.

"Viceroy," Ello greeted, nodding to Bail and then to Rieekan. "General."

"Ello," Bail demanded, his voice betraying more emotion than he intended. "Let me through. I need to see my daughter."

The medic placed a hand on the Alderaani's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Her Highness seems to be fine, sir. She walked off the ship on her own and I haven't noticed any severe injuries. Now, I understand that you want to see her, and I understand that High Command is concerned about the events that have occurred since Hoth, but my duty is first to my patients." Tuck's voice was warm but firm and it brokered no room for argument, even from two of the Alliance's highest-ranking officials. "I can let you into the private waiting room, but I need you to give me some time with them. Let me check them out and get them the care they need. I'll let you know the moment you can come in."

Bail opened his mouth to protest, but Rieekan cut him off before he could say anything.

"Leia's in good hands, Bail. Let him do his job."

The viceroy gave his oldest friend a pained look before nodding towards the medic. Tuck smiled again.

"It won't be long, sir," Ello assured him.

"Will you at least tell Leia that I'm here?" Bail asked wearily.

"Yes, sir."

"Wait," Bail added quickly, stopping Tuck as he made a motion to leave. "Also tell her that I love her. And tell her that no matter what, everything is going to be okay."

"Of course, sir," the medic replied cautiously, giving the viceroy a strange look. Then he turned quickly on one heel and disappeared behind the triage doors.

"Bail," Rieekan said gently, leading his troubled friend into the private waiting area, far away from the prying eyes in the hangar bay. "She's all right. Windu already told you that she's physically unharmed."

The viceroy sank slowly into a nearby couch, trying hard to ignore the suddenly crushing sterility of the white room, and scrubbed his face with his hands.

"We both know that it's not the physical harm that I'm worried about, Carlist."

Rieekan conceded the point with a nod, and sat down in the chair opposite Bail.

"Leia can handle it. She'll make the right choice."

"She..." Bail trailed off, catching Rieekan's gaze, then shook his head and gave a frustrated sigh. "She's going to make what she thinks is the right choice for the Rebellion, for Alderaan. For me."

The general raised an eyebrow.

"You think she's going to terminate the pregnancy when she finds out?"

"You don't?" Bail challenged.

"If she's going to make the right decision for the Alliance? According to Mace--"

"What Mace says doesn't matter. Leia's in there by herself right now. You _know _her, Carlist. She still feels guilty about Alderaan and would never do anything to dishonor her title."

The shadow that passed over Rieekan's face told Bail that he got it, but to the general's credit, he displayed none of the shock he felt over the sudden realization.

"You think Leia's going to abort and never tell you." It wasn't a question, and Bail's eyes dropped to the floor, only confirming what Rieekan already knew. There was a moment of contemplative silence between the two men, then the general shook his head and gave his friend a pointed look. "Kreth, Bail, I think she deserves a little more of your faith than that."

The viceroy's eyebrows arched, startled by Rieekan's unexpected candor.

"I have plenty of faith in my daughter."

"No you don't," Rieekan countered. "You don't know her. Not anymore. The Leia that requested to retrieve Kenobi from Tatooine and take the Death Star plans to Alderaan absolutely would have hidden this, because she never would have let her happiness get in the way of what the galaxy expected of her. Even a year ago, she would have terminated. But Solo saw through that act of hers about two minutes after he met her, and he's spent the last three years devoted to just about nothing but making Leia happy."

"So you're saying," Bail began levelly, "that the baby is going to make Leia happy? That she'll keep it because Han told her she deserves to be happy?"

"Yes." Rieekan's blue eyes glinted with a spark of mischief, as though he was in on a joke that Bail didn't get.

"You seem..._awfully _sure of your theory, Carlist."

The other man shrugged.

"I know Han. I know the influence that he has on her. Even when things between the two of them were at their worst...Bail, Leia has _always _listened to him. And you know how she doesn't listen to anyone."

Bail shook his head, giving his old friend a defeated look.

"Well then, Carlist," he sighed heavily, "where in the nine hells is he?"

--

Leia sat restlessly on the medbunk, freshly showered and dressed in white robes that felt strange compared to the snowsuit and Han's shirts that had clothed her for the past weeks. She braided her hair back into a simple bun, absently watching the swirling system outside the viewport while she waited for her turn with Tuck. She had refused to be checked immediately, citing that she'd had worse many times before and that Luke's injuries were far more urgent, but the Corellian medic still insisted that she consent to a quick scan after she showered. Chewie and Lando had both been looked over by Two-Onebee and had gone to discuss Han's rescue with Rieekan at Leia's request. It was something that she knew would frustrate her father, but for some reason she wasn't quite ready to see Bail just yet. Maybe it was because the love and concern she knew she'd see in his eyes would remind her of Han, and she couldn't yet trust herself not to cry in front of her father.

The door to the small room slid open and in breezed Pax Antilles, the raven-haired Ryquin woman that had married Wedge Antilles the same day Bail landed on Hoth. Not long after her arrival with the Alliance as a refugee, Leia had found her a position as a medic's aide on the _Redemption_. Pax reveled in her assignment, learning quickly and moving up to her current position as Tuck's assistant. She smiled warmly at Leia as she entered, eternally grateful for the princess' compassion years ago after the floods on Ryquin that had killed her infant son, and Leia answered with a genuine smile of her own.

"Your Highness," Pax said, extending to her a bottle filled with a clear liquid. "I brought you some nutriwater. You're bound to be a little dehydrated after everything you've just been through."

"Thank you, Pax," Leia said, appreciative of the cool, slightly sweet drink. "How are you and Wedge?"

"We're as happy as you could ask with a war going on. Wedge took over as Rogue Commander after Commander Skywalker was assumed dead, but we've had a bit of a lull so I haven't had a chance to be too worried about him yet. I'm sure he's glad that Luke is back. He'll probably never be happier to be demoted."

Leia sighed and set the empty bottle down on the table next to her, then lay back on the bunk with her fingers splayed across her abdomen. It wasn't a regal position to assume, but she was still so weary and Pax had seen her much, much worse.

"I don't know what kind of shape Luke is in, but it might be a while before he has any interest in commanding anyone again. How is he, by the way?"

"He's got three broken ribs, a cracked hip, is being fitted for a prosthetic hand as we speak, and is in desperate need of a shower," a rich tenor voice answered, and both women turned to see Tuck entering the exam room. "So in other words, he's fine. I doped him up and applied the bone knitters, Too-Onebee is working on the hand, and he should be taking a shower right about now. By the time we're done here, he'll be good as new."

"I hope so," Leia agreed, though she was certain that neither she nor Luke would fully recover from Bespin anytime in the near future.

"All we have to do now, Your Highness, is make sure you're fine," Tuck said with a grin as he began to run the handheld medscanner over Leia's prone form, "and then you can all get back to your hero work."

Pax chuckled and Leia fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Gods, you are Corellian, aren't you, Tuck?"

The medic shrugged without looking up from the scanner's screen.

"S'pose so, but as a true Corellian I should probably be bragging more about my own hero work."

"It wouldn't be bragging," Leia said over the quiet beep signaling the completion of the medscan. "You do important work here. And so do you, Pax."

The other woman smiled kindly, clearly humbled by praise from someone she deemed so powerful, but Tuck was still studying the scanner readout with something like concern on his face and didn't seem to have even heard Leia speak. After a moment of silence, both women noticed the medic's almost alarming withdrawal and looked at him expectantly.

"Tuck?" Leia asked quietly. "What is it?"

His blue eyes met hers and he steeled his face in a look of polite concern.

"Princess, have you been feeling sick recently? Nausea, headaches, lack of energy?"

She frowned.

"No. Well, maybe a little." She had felt physically ill during the hours of Han's torture and after their escape from Bespin, but had thought little of it. "When we were...I just assumed that it was because of everything that was going on. Why are you asking--"

Leia broke her question in mid-sentence as she made the connection in her mind. But it was impossible. The morning after they first made love, she had awoken in Han's arms to his startled questions about birth control. He'd seemed so frustrated that he had forgotten all about it in the heat of the moment, but she quickly calmed his worries, citing that the drugs she was injected with on the Death Star had likely damaged her ability to conceive. The sad news of her infertility three years ago had not really affected her then. She never pictured herself having children, and the loss of Alderaan had weighed so heavy that it was of minor consequence. Even now, with the Alderaan's pain dulled in the recesses of her heart, thoughts of unattainable motherhood did not inspire longing.

But Tuck's questions..._that _was why he looked so confused. It had been he, after all, who told her three years ago that she would probably never be able to become pregnant. They'd both assumed it impossible, but what he was asking could only mean one thing.

"Am I...Oh, gods, Tuck, am I _pregnant_?" The word sounded foreign in her mouth.

He nodded and handed her the results of the scan, which she took with suddenly trembling fingers. She read them three times before the words finally registered. A fourth read reminded her that the scanner wasn't faulty. It was brand new, purchased with some of her father's funds from a supplier on Kamino, which ensured that it was state of the art and could pick up on even the slightest infections before the blood began producing antibodies.

_Pregnant, nine days of gestation, one male fetus._

"I can't," she said suddenly, shoving the scanner back into Tuck's hands. "I can't be. You said that the nerve drugs..."

"I know." Tuck seemed to be just as confused as Leia as he looked from her back to the results, almost expecting them to change. But they didn't change, and he had no answers for the befuddled young princess.

Pax, however, did have an answer. The Ryquin woman was just three years older than Leia when she gave birth to her son, only to then have everything in her world washed away by a series of devastating storms. She had been at her lowest when Leia came across her, sobbing over her baby's body, but Leia's entrance in her life had been her saving grace. Pax joined the Alliance, found her calling in healing, and true love and a fresh start with Wedge Antilles. Once a woman of science, of concrete beliefs, her own life was proof enough that something more powerful than she was at work.

"Your Highness," Pax said soothingly, "Have you ever witnessed a miracle?"

Leia looked to the other woman and wondered if her face betrayed her surprise at Pax's words. Hadn't she in fact had this argument with Han when things got so bad between them on the way to Ord Mantell? She was angry with his disbelief in the impossible, and yet here she was, immediately dismissing the impossibility of her pregnancy due to anything other than scientific error. Why couldn't it be some miracle that she and Han had created a life where there could be none? Certainly stranger things had happened in the past.

"I don't..." Leia began, but then she trailed off as the true implications of her pregnancy suddenly hit her. She was a soldier, in the middle of a war, and hardly in any position to bring a pregnancy to term when the Alliance could be scattered across the galaxy the very next day. She was the last princess of Alderaan, and although unwed mothers weren't judged on her homeworld, certainly this would reflect poorly on what was left of the royal family. What would her father say? Would he be angry with her? Disappointed?

And Han! Han was gods knows where, and she couldn't be sure she would ever see him again. What if they never found Boba Fett? What if Jabba killed him before they were able to get to him? Worse, what if they found him and he wanted nothing to do with a baby? He never claimed to be anything other than a temporary fixture in her life before their extended trip to Bespin. What if he didn't mean the things he said to her while they were both so far removed from reality that glorious month?

"Your Highness?" Tuck's question interrupted her frantic train of fatalist thoughts, and she realized that she had been staring at nothing for nearly a minute. She shook her head, wondering if she was going to regret the words she was about to say.

"I have to terminate."

Neither medic could hide their utter shock at her statement. Pax's hand on her shoulder tensed almost imperceptibly.

"Leia, you're not thinking clearly," Pax said quickly.

Tuck nodded.

"I agree. This is startling information and you've been through so much in the past few days, so it can be a lot to get your mind around. I don't want you making any decision that you're going to regret. Maybe you should talk to your father about this--"

"He can't know." Leia interrupted, glaring pointedly at her medic. "How soon can you do it?"

"Three days," Pax answered, giving Leia the rather distinct impression that the other woman was lying. Her suspicions were confirmed by a glare from Tuck.

"Pax, that isn't helping," he chastised before turning back to the princess. "Your Highness, we could do the procedure now if it's what you truly want, but it's my medical opinion that you wait at least a day to make your final decision. Your father and I spoke after you came in. I know it's not my place, but I really think he'll be a little more open minded than you're giving him credit."

"Tuck!" Leia protested, but the medic held up a hand, silencing her.

"Leia. Talk to him. Talk to General Rieekan. Or Luke." He paused for a moment, studying her defiant features, then suddenly sat down on the bunk next to her and placed a hand on her forearm. His voice was quiet when he asked his next question and his eyes were gentle and did not leave hers. "Oh, gods, Leia. Was Han the father?"

The question hit her harder than she expected and she clamped her free hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut against the rush of tears that flooded her eyes at the mere mention of Han's name out loud. Her reaction was all the confirmation that Tuck needed. He patted her arm slowly, calling no attention to her shaky attempt not to cry.

"_Is _the father," she managed finally, swallowing the lump in her throat. "He's not dead. He's just...missing."

"Don't you think he wants a say in this?"

Confused and frustrated, Leia dropped her head and began fidgeting with the sleeve of her dress. She knew that Tuck was absolutely right: she was making a brash decision in the aftermath of so much fear and stress, and if Leia Organa was anything, she was calculating. She didn't make decisions without considering all of the consequences, and what's more, she owed it to Han to have a voice.

"You could talk to Chewie," Tuck suggested, "if you're determined to make a decision soon."

"Okay," she agreed.

Pax smiled thinly and Tuck stood up.

"We'll give you some time. Luke could probably use a visitor when you're ready, and I know that your father is pretty anxious to see you."

"Thanks, Tuck. Pax." Leia nodded to them both, appreciative of their refusal to cave to her status and force her to make the wise decision. They turned to leave, but she stopped them as Tuck palmed open the door. "Can you tell my father that he can come in?"

"Sure," Tuck said before the door closed behind him, leaving Leia alone in the silent room with only her thoughts and the surreal presence that she could not yet feel growing inside her. Tentatively, she splayed her fingers over her abdomen, marveling at the startling reality of life pulsating beneath her hands. Life. A part of Han, the man she loved.

The man she might never see again.

The door to the exam room slid open again and Leia jumped, pulling her hands away from her stomach and pushing herself to sit up straight against the pillows. Bail walked in and crossed quickly to her, and as he pulled her into a tight hug she realized she had never before seen him look so relieved. She wrapped her arms around her father's broad shoulders and for a moment suddenly felt as though she was six years old all over again and they together were reeling from Breha Organa's death once more.

"Lelila," Bail said as he let her go. "I was so worried about you."

She smiled sadly and looked into her father's dark eyes, only to divert her gaze quickly at the emotion seeing him again stirred within her. She was determined not to fall apart in front of him. The decision she had to make was a difficult one and it wouldn't be easy to share, but she had been raised to act wise beyond her years, to be a stoic leader, and she refused to fail that upbringing now.

"I'm okay, Father," she insisted quietly, again playing with the cuff of her sleeve. "Really. I missed you."

"What happened?" The question had a strange edge to it, as though Bail knew much more than he was letting on.

"I was late in evacuating Echo Base and Han came to get me to my transport. The corridor to the main bay caved in when the generator was hit, so he had to get me out on the _Falcon_. And of course, nothing ever works when it's supposed to on that ship, so the hyperdrive failed and Han couldn't fix it, so we had to travel at sublight to the nearest safe system."

"Is that where you met Baron Calrissian?"

Leia grimaced and nodded.

"He's the administrator of a tibanna gas mining colony on Bespin and an old friend of Han's. We thought it would be a good idea."

Bail gave a heavy sigh. He knew exactly what happened on Bespin because of Mace's insight, but the Jedi Master was adamant that Leia not yet learn of her connection to the Force. No doubt Leia was loathe to retell everything that had happened to her in the past few days, but he was acting the part of an in-the-dark concerned father and therefore had to make her relive it all over again.

"It wasn't a good idea?"

Leia shook her head, now twisting the cuff of her sleeve around her right index finger.

"We were followed. Or trapped. I don't know. Vader was there. He was after Luke and knew he could use us as bait."

"Where was Luke?"

Finally, she met her father's eyes as she remembered his stories of the Clone Wars and his old friendship with the ancient Jedi.

"Did you know that Master Yoda is still alive, Father?"

Bail nodded.

"He's in hiding. It's very important that he not be discovered."

Leia mulled over this new information for a moment, then shrugged slightly and continued.

"Well, Luke was training with him. He says that General Kenobi appeared to him after he was attacked by that creature on Hoth. Kenobi told him to go to Dagobah. Luke said he wasn't sure if it was a hallucination, because he'd been outside base for hours and was in pretty bad shape when Han found him, but he went anyway. And I guess the vision was real, because Master Yoda was there."

"And Vader was able to lure him from Dagobah to Bespin?"

Again, the Leia's sleeve was suddenly very fascinating to her. She nodded but said nothing. Even if he knew nothing, her silence would have been easy for Bail to interpret. He placed a large, steady hand over her petite ones, so unlike his, in an attempt to still her protective fidgeting. It was a nervous habit that she was able to control in front of the most formidable senators, but had never learned to cease in front of him. He squeezed her fingers gently, then quietly asked the one question to which he didn't already know the answer.

"Lelila. Where's Han?"

She froze, still and solid and cold as a statue, refusing to look at her father. He knew from the way her head was ducked that she was trying desperately not to cry, and it broke his heart. He was well aware of her condition and the disquiet the news undoubtedly caused her, but the smuggler's glaring absence in all of this seemed to him an unfair development in a future that was never her own.

"Leia?"

She said nothing.

"Sweetheart?"

Still, she said nothing. After another moment, Bail reached his free hand forward and cupped her chin, lifting gently until she finally met his eyes. The short contact was all it took to push her over the edge. Her tears came them, sudden and furious, and she dissolved into shuddering sobs. Bail drew her into him once more and rubbed her back like he did when she was a little girl, listening quietly as she told him the whole painful story.

"He's gone! Han's gone! Vader tortured him. He--he strapped him to a scan grid and shocked him until his heart stopped and I had to watch and I couldn't--I couldn't...I couldn't do anything to help him, I couldn't save him. I wanted to take his place and Vader wouldn't let me. He wanted to capture Luke and take him to Palpatine, he wanted Luke incapacitated, so he _tested_ carbon freeze on Han."

Bail's blood ran cold at the thought. Carbon freezing was incredibly dangerous for humans, and from what little he knew, a truly horrible prison even upon survival.

"Oh, Leia."

"Han survived," she continued brokenly, "but Vader gave him to a bounty hunter to take to Jabba. I couldn't get to him in time! And we don't know where he is, or if he's still alive, I don't know if Jabba's going to kill him, if we can find him before..." she trailed off, unable to finish that thought, and brought her hands up to cover her face, hiding the evidence of her tears from her father.

"Is that why Chewie asked Rieekan for emergency supplies? Is he going to look for Han?"

"Yes. He's going to Tatooine with Lando."

"Are you going with them?"

She nodded.

"Luke and I are going to go. Chewie knows Jabba and wants to check things out first, but we'll go when the time is right. Luke needs to go back anyway. He thinks that there might be some old Jedi manuscripts at General Kenobi's homestead."

Bail was quiet for a long moment, then put a hand on her shin.

"Leia?"

"Father?"

"Are you in love with Han?"

She let her hands slowly drop from her face as she regarded her father with a mixture of confusion and surprise. When he raised an eyebrow, she knew that there was no hiding the truth from him and nodded twice.

"Is there something else I need to know?"

The confusion in her red-tinged eyes grew more pronounced, but again she nodded.

"Did Tuck tell you?"

"No. But I know my baby girl. Leia, you know that I love you. You can tell me anything."

"I know."

"Come on, Princess. Spill."

Leia studied him for another long moment, but finally sighed and dropped her eyes again.

"Oh, Baba," she said in a voice that was almost inaudible, using the endearing name she hadn't called him since she was ten years old. "I'm pregnant. Han's the father."

Bail looked at his daughter sadly. Leia should have been elated, or at least pleasantly surprised by this joyous news. But instead, she was sad, confused, devastated, and so many other emotions that should never accompany the impending birth of a child, and he knew her despair was directly related to Han's absence. It was so unfair, and it hurt him to see her in so much pain.

"Lelila, this is wonderful news," Bail said with a smile when Leia finally glanced up at him again, as though terrified of what she would find in his face. "Especially after Tuck was so certain that the interrogation drugs you had been given damaged your fertility. A baby--this baby--is a blessing from the goddess. I'm very happy for you."

Years of diplomatic training had no hope of allowing her to hide the blatant surprise, and all the speeches she had made on the Senate floor could not help her find the presence to form the right sentences. Her words were confused and strung together and began to tremble as the tears threatened to return again.

"What? I mean, it is--he is, but...I--I thought that you would be angry, and Alderaan, and the war, and...and Han. I didn't think you even liked him--Oh! Father, he's not here and I don't know, I can't know if he even wants--if he would want..."

Bail sighed and glanced out the viewport behind Leia's bunk. He liked Solo, he truly did. But when the jaded spacer finally returned to the Alliance, Bail was going to have a few things to say to him about protecting Leia's heart. Getting in too deep with intergalactic crime lords was going to be out of the question.

"Leia, of course I'm not angry. You're an adult, Sweetheart. You've grown up stronger and wiser than I ever could have hoped. Han is a good man. He's caring and responsible, and it's so obvious to me that he loves you. Carlist told me once that Han would go to the ends of the galaxy for you, that the bounty on his head got so large because he chose to stay here and protect you rather than pay it off."

A ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth as she remembered her lover's quiet chivalry.

"He gave back the reward money he got for saving me."

Bail chuckled.

"He started doing it for free after that, then. I know more than you've told me, Lelila. I know he got you off Yavin, that he saved your life when you got sick on Ryquin. You probably would have been killed on Hoth if it weren't for him."

"Yes."

"Han loves you, Lelila," He said again, firmly, a statement of proven fact.

Leia searched her father's face, surprised to find his approval of the scoundrel that had stolen her heart. She opened her mouth to confirm, but realized he already knew and simply nodded.

"And you love him."

Another nod.

"Then," Bail smiled, squeezing her hand gently, "don't you think he's going to be thrilled when he comes back to the news that he's going to be a father?"

A shadow crossed Leia's face, a mixture of confusion, elation, and so-familiar defiance, but Bail gave her a pointed look and the protest died on her lips before she could begin to speak.

"He will be, Leia. Trust me." He reached forward and touched his fingers to her temple, remembering the elation he felt the day he accepted his infant daughter in his arms. It had been one of the galaxy's darkest, steeped in despair, desolation, and the joy of bringing Leia home, of becoming a father, was bittersweet, tempered by her separation from Luke, by Padmé's death and Anakin's fall, but it was the most incredible joy Bail Organa had known. "It's going to be the greatest news of his life."


	27. Part VI

_The news that Leia had been rushed to the orbiting medical frigate on board the _Falcon _had travelled quickly through the ranks of the Alliance. The men that Leia called family were soon joined by her friends and superiors, and the waiting area was suddenly overflowing with sentients anxious for news about the princess. Wedge Antilles, Hobbie Klivian, and Wes Janson sat down on the floor near Chewie and Lando, and Mon Mothma and Admiral Ackbar took seats next to Rieekan. Even Threepio and Artoo had found their way into the eerily silent room._

_Han took little notice of the new visitors. He and Luke had returned to their spots on the floor in the short hallway that led to the triage bay, this time accompanied by Bail. Though he was quiet, stoic, Han was livid. His earlier despair had melted into white-hot anger. He remembered they prophecy that the old Jedi Windu had described to him and Leia right after their wedding, and it ate him almost as much as the waiting did. That same Jedi was now sitting diagonally across the room from him, and was the only person among the patchwork group that appeared calm -- unconcerned even -- by the vibrant life hanging in the balance on the other side of the triage doors. _

_(Except that he should have been concerned, because this was _Leia's _life they were watching fade, dammit, this was Leia, this was _her_, and he should have been anything but _unconcerned._)_

_Mace's eyes were closed as though he were meditating, or maybe sleeping, but he soon opened them and looked directly at Han, unsurprised that the younger man was staring back at him with narrowed eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment, a battle of wills oblivious to everyone else around them._

"_Why are you even here?"_

_Han's words were venomous and sliced through the silence, startling everybody except the man he was speaking to. Beside Han, Bail's brow furrowed a little more, and Luke made a move to put a restraining hand on his brother-in-law before deciding that he, too, wanted to know the answer to Han's question. The tension in the room was suddenly palpable, thick as durasteel, and everyone watched as the old Jedi master only nodded calmly._

"_General -- " he began, but Han cut him off immediately, swiftly to his feet and crossing the room to where Windu sat._

"_Why the hell are you here?" Han spat again. "You don't care about her. You aren't in there healing her. If she's so important to your godsdamned Order, why aren't you doing anything?"_

_Mace stood slowly, not speaking until he was level with the angry general._

"_Please understand, General," he said calmly. "It's the will of the Force. Leia is important, but there are events that must happen for the galaxy to move forward. You must see this."_

"_Damn your galaxy to hell!" Han was shouting now, his fury deafening in the quiet room. He pointed an angry finger into Mace's chest, and Luke got up to stand behind the two men. "She isn't a pawn in your game. You've done nothing but use her. You used her and you used Luke. You've manipulated them and lied to them and now you won't do anything to help her because it doesn't _suit _you? You're a real son of a Hutt, you know that?"_

"_Han!" Luke shouted, but Mace held up a silencing hand._

"_It's the will of the Force," the Jedi repeated, looking calmly into Han's eyes. _

_Han looked ready to punch the old man, but before he could open his mouth to say anything, Luke stepped between him and fixed a serious glare on his brother-in-law._

"_Tuck's coming, Han."_

_As soon as Luke said it, the triage doors slid open and Tuck Ello walked into the crowded waiting room. Bail stood up immediately and Han nearly ran up to the Corellian medic. Tuck nodded once at the Viceroy and offered an unconvincing half-smile to everyone waiting anxiously for word about Leia. Then he met Han's worried eyes and placed a hand on Han's arm. The gesture filled the general with fear, as though Tuck was preparing to keep him from collapsing to the floor._

"_She's not -- " Han managed, mouth suddenly dry._

_The medic's deep blue eyes were suddenly glassy, and he ducked his head and swallowed hard before he was able to speak._

"_I'm so sorry, Han."_


End file.
